EQERTON  CASTLE 


THE  LIBRARY 

iflflVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
MS  ANGELES 


"YOUNG  APRIL" 


BY   EGERTON   CASTLE. 

CONSEQUENCES.    A  Novel. 

THE  LIGHT  OF  SCARTHEY.     A  Romance. 

LA  BELLA  AND  OTHERS.  Studies  of 
Character  and  Action. 

THE  PRIDE  OF  JENNICO.  A  Romance. 
(In  collaboration  with  AGNES  CASTLE.) 

YOUNG  APRIL.    A  Romance. 

MARSHFIELD  THE  OBSERVER.  Further 
Studies  of  Character  and  Action.  (In  the  press..) 

SCHOOLS  AND  MASTERS  OF  FENCE. 
A  History  of  the  Fencing  Art.  {Illustrated.) 

ENGLISH  BOOK-PLATES.  Ancient  and 
Modern.  (Illustrated.) 

THE  JERNINGHAM  LETTERS  (1782- 
1848).  Edited  (with  Portraits  and  Illustra- 
tions) . 

BIBLIOTHECA  DIMICATORIA.  A  Com- 
plete Bibliography  of  the  Art  of  Fence. 

LE  ROMAN  DU  PRINCE  OTHON.  A 
Rendering  in  French  of  R.  L.  Stevenson's 
PRINCE  OTTO. 


BY  AGNES   CASTLE. 
MY   LITTLE   LADY   ANNE.     A  Romance. 


"THAT  MOST  EXQUISITE  PICTURE  .  .  .  THE  WOMAN  AND  THE  CHILD" 


"YOUNG   APRIL" 


BY 

EGERTON   CASTLE 

AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  PRIDE  OF  JENNICO,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  A.  B.  WENZELL 


1 0  Primavera,  gioventu  dell'  anno 
O  Gioventu,  primavera  della  vita !  " 


Nefa  fforfc 
THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON :  MACMILLAN  AND  CO.,  LTD. 
1899 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1898, 
BY  EGERTON  CASTLE. 

COPYRIGHT,  1899, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped  October,  1898.      Reprinted  October, 
three  times,  1899. 


NortoooD  $rfS3 

J.  S.  Gushing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith 
Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


I   DEDICATE  THIS   BOOK 

TO    MY    WIFE 

WHO 

BY   HER  CONSTANT  SYMPATHY  WITH   MY  TASTES  AND  THOUGHTS 

PRESERVES   IN  EVERY  MONTH  OF  MY  LIFE 

THE   FRESHNESS   OF 

"YOUNG    APRIL" 


2134659 


CONTENTS 


I  (PAGE  1) 

"  Young  blood  doth  not  obey  an  old  decree." 

SHAKESPEARE 

II  (PAGE  16) 

"  Elle  etaitjeune,  et  son  ceil  plein  dejoie 
Faisait  rever  .  .  ." — VICTOR  HUGO 

III  (PAGE  24) 

"  Such  a  hare  is  madness,  the  youth,  to  skip  over  the  meshes 
of  good  counsel,  the  cripple."  —  SHAKESPEARE 

IV  (PAGE  35) 

"  The  Devil  hath  not  in  all  his  quiver's  choice 
An  arrow  for  the  heart  like  a  sweet  voice.'1''  —'BYRON 

V  (PAGE  43) 

"  A  winning  wave,  deserving  note, 
In  the  tempestuous  petticoat.'1''  —  HERRICK 

VI  (PAGE  51) 

"  When  proud-pied  April,  dressed  in  all  his  trim, 
Hath  put  a  spirit  of  youth  in  everything.'" 

SHAKESPEARE 
vii 


Contents 

VII  (PAGE  60) 

"  Oh,  heavenly  fool,  thy  most  kiss-worthy  face 
Anger  invests  with  such  a  lovely  grace  /" 

SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY 

VIII  (PAGE  72) 

"  Alia  Stoccata  cam'es  it  away  /  "  —  SHAKESPEARE 

IX  (PAGE  84) 

"  For  God's  sake  let  me  in  ! 
What  shrill-voiced  suppliant  makes  this  eager  cry? 
A  woman  .  .  .  'tis  /. 

Speak  with  me,  pity  me  —  open  the  door  ! 
A  beggar  begs  that  never  begged  before." 

SHAKESPEARE 

X  (PAGE  92) 

"  What  is  love?    'Tis  not  hereafter. 
Present  mirth  hath  present  laughter; 

What's  to  come  is  still  unsure  ; 
In  delay  there  lies  no  plenty. 
Then  come  kiss  me,  sweet  and  twenty, 
Youth's  a  stuff  will  not  endure.'" 

SHAKESPEARE 

XI  (PAGE  104) 

"  I  think  the  boy  hath  grace  in  him; 
He  blushes."  —  SHAKESPEARE 

XH  (PAGE  110) 

"La  chose  fut  exquise  etfort  bien  ordonnee. 
CTetait  au  mois  d'Avril,  et  dans  une  journee 
Si  douce,  qu'on  etit  dit  qu' Amour  Vent  fait  expres." 

VICTOR  HUGO 


Contents  ix 

XIII  (PAGE  117) 

"  Wir  breiten  nur  den  Mantel  aus 
Der  soil  uns  durch  die  Lilfte  tragen, 

*  *  *  *  * 

Und  sind  ivir  leicht,  so  geht  es  schnell  hinauf' 
Ich  gratulire  dir  zum  neuen  Lebenslauf!" 

GOETHE 

XIV  (PAGE  121) 

"  Ami,  pourquoi  contemplez-vous  sans  cesse 
Le  jour  quifuit,  ou  r ombre  qui  s'abaisse, 
Ou  Vastre  d'or  qui  monte  a  V orient?" 

VICTOR  Huso 

XV  (PAGE  131) 

"  Habe  nun,  ach!    Philosophic^ 
Juristerey  und  Medizin  .  .  . 
Durchaus  studirt,  mit  heissem  BemuWn. 

***** 
Grau,  theurer  Freund,  ist  alle  Theorie, 
Und  gr'tin  des  Lebens  gold'ner  J5awm." 

GOETHE 

XVI  (PAGE  147) 

"  I  have  a  speech  of  fire,  that  fain  would  blaze  I 

***** 

One  that  was  a  woman,  sir;  but,  rest  her  soul,  she's  dead." 

SHAKESPEARE 

XVII  (PAGE  157) 

"  He  of  their  wicked  ways 
Shall  them  admonish,  and  before  them  set 
The  ways  of  righteousness."  — MILTON 


Contents 

XVIII    (PAGE    165) 

"  A  violet  in  the  youth  of  primy  Nature, 
Forward,  not  permanent,  sweet,  not  lasting, 
The  perfume  and  suppliance  of  a  moment; 
No  more"  — SHAKESPEARE 

XIX  (PAGE  175) 

"  He  said :  She  must  be  swift  and  white, 
And  subtly  warm,  and  half  perverse, 
Sweet  as  a  soft  sharp  fruit  to  bite, 
And,  like  a  snake's  love,  lithe  and  fierce. 
Men  have  guessed  worse.'11 

SWINBTJKNE 

XX  (PAGE   189) 

"  The  ApriVs  in  her  eyes.    It  is  love's  spring.'11 

SHAKESPEARE 

XXI  (PAGE  205) 

"  Si  par  aventure  on  s'enquete 
Qui  m'a  valu  telle  conquete  — 
C'est  Vallure  de  mon  cheval .  .  ." 

A.  DE  MUSSET 

XXII  (PAGE   211) 

"And  therefore  take  the  present  time, 
With  a  hey  and  a  ho,  and  a  hey  nonino  ! 
For  Love  is  crowned  with  the  prime 
In  the  spnng  time,  the  only  pretty  ring  time  — 
Sweet  lovers  love  the  spring." 

SHAKESPEARE 

XXIII  (PAGE  222) 

"  Thy  heart  is  big ; 
Get  thee  apart  and  weep."  —  SHAKESPEARE 


Contents 

XXIV  (PAGE  227) 

•  Un  piege  de  nature,  une  rose  muscade 
Dans  laquelle  V amour  se  tient  en  embuscade  ! 
Qui  connait  son  sourire  a  connu  le  parfait; 
Ellefait  de  la  grace  avec  rien  —  ellefait 
Tenir  tout  le  divin  dans  un  geste  quelconque, 
Et  tu  ne  saurais  pas,  Venus,  monter  en  conque, 
Ni  tot,  Diane,  marcher  dans  les  grand  bois  fleuris 
Comme  elle  . .  ."  — ROSTAND 

XXV  (PAGE  238) 

"  Qu'apprendrez-vous  qui  vaille  mon  sourire? 
Qu'apprendras-tu  qui  vaille  nos  baisers  ?  " 

VICTOR  HUGO 

XXVI  (PAGE  250) 

"  Vraiment  la  reine  eutpres  d'elle  ete  laide." 

VICTOR  HDGO 

XXVII  (PAGE  261) 

"  Le  roi  disait  en  la  voyant  si  belle  — 
Pour  un  baiser,  pour  un  sourire  d'eZZe. 
Pour  un  cheveu  .  .  ."  —  VICTOR  HUGO 

XXVIH  (PAGE  273) 

"  0  !  how  this  Spring  of  love  resembleth 
Th?  uncertain  glory  of  an  April  day, 
Which  now  shows  all  the  beauty  of  the  sun, 
And  by  and  by  a  cloud  takes  all  away  !  " 

SHAKESPEARE 

XXIX  (PAGE  287) 

"  Love  is  a  smoke  raised  with  the  fume  of  sighs; 
Being  purged,  afire  sparkling  in  lovers'  eyes; 


XI 


xii  Contents 

Being  vex'd,  a  sea  nourished  with  lovers'  tears  : 
What  is  it  else?  —  a  madness  most  discreet, 
A  choking  gall,  and  a  preserving  sweet." 

SHAKESPEARE 

XXX  (PAGE  299) 

"  Dost  know  this  water-fly? 
No,  my  good  lord. 
Thy  state  is  the  more  gracious." 

SHAKESPEARE 

XXXI  (PAGE  309) 

"  Avez-vous  vu  Diane,  au  sommet  des  collines, 
Vous  qui  passes  dans  r  ombre,  etes  vous  des  amantsf" 

VICTOR  HUGO 

XXXII  (PAGE  317) 

"Boot,  saddle,  to  horse,  and  away!"  — BROWNING 

XXXIII  (PAGE  327) 

"  Sabine  unjour 
A  tout  vendu  —  sa  beaute  de  colombe 

Et  son  amour  I 
Pour  le  collier  du  comte  de  Saldagne, 

Pour  un  bijou  .  .  .  / 
Le  vent  qui  vient  a  travers  la  montagne 

Me  rendra  fou  I "  —  VICTOR  HUGO 

XXXIV  (PAGE  332) 

"  See  how  she  comes,  apparelled  like  the  spring, 
Graces  her  subjects,  and  her  thoughts  the  Ring 

IT  ***** 

Her  face  the  book  of  praises,  where  is  read 
Nothing  but  curious  pleasures."  -  SHAKESPEARE 


Contents  xiii 

XXXV  (PAGE  344) 

"  My  particular  grief 
Is  of  so  flood-gate  and  overbearing  nature 
That  it  engluts  and  swallows  other  sorrows." 

SHAKESPBARB 

XXXVI  (PAGE  352) 

"Peace!    Sit  you  down, 
And  let  me  wring  your  heart."  —  SHAKESPEARE 


XXXVII  (PAGE  368) 

"  Mon  Avril  se  meurtfeuille  afeuille: 
Sur  chaque  branche  que  je  cueille 
Croit  Vepine  la  douleur." —  VICTOR  HUGO 


XXXVIII  (PAGE  371) 

"  O  most  delicate  fiend  ! 
Who  is't  can  read  a  woman?"  — SHAKESPEARE 


XXXIX  (PAGE  385) 
"  I  know  how  to  curse."  —  SHAKESPEARE 

XL  (PAGE  391) 

"  The  King  hath  dispossessed  himself  of  us. 
We  will  not  line  his  thin  bestained  cloak 
With  our  pure  honours."  —  SHAKESPEARE 

XLI  (PAGE  395) 

"  O  my  lord,  my  lord,  the  sheriff,  with  a  most  monstrous 
watch,  is  at  the  door. "  —  SHAKESPEARE 


XIV 


Contents 

XLII  (PAGE  408) 

"  Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make, 
Nor  iron  bars  a  cage."  — LOVELACE 

XLIII  (PAGE  419) 
"  Therefore  we  banish  you  our  territories. 

ftu  A  TT  ITC 


SHAKESPEARE 


XLIV  (PAGE  430) 


"  There  was  a  star  danced,  and  under  that  was  I  born. 
Cousins,  God  give  you  joy.'1'1  —  SHAKESPEARE 

XLV  (PAGE  435) 

"  The  setting  sun  and  music  at  the  close 
As  the  last  taste  of  sweets  is  sweetest  last.''1 
SHAKESPEARE 

AN  EPILOGUE  (PAGE  446) 

"  Que  vous  ai-je  done  fait,  0  mesjeunes  anneest 
Pour  m' avoir  fuit  si  vite  et  vous  etre  eloignees, 

Me  croyant  satisfait? 

Helas  !  pour  revenir  m^apparaitre  si  belles, 
Quand  vous  ne  pouvezplus  me  prendre  sur  vos  ailes. 
Que  vous  ai-je  done  fait." 

VICTOR  HUGO 

"  Et  les  manteaux  de  due  trainent  dans  leur  fourrures 
Pendant  que  des  grandeurs  on  monte  les  degres 
Un  bruit  d'illusions  seches  et  de  regrets  .  .  ." 

ROSTAND 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  THAT  MOST  EXQUISITE  PICTURE  .  .  .  THE  WOMAN  AND 

THE  CHILD" Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

"  AT  THE  SAME  MOMENT  .  .  .  LIFTED  HER  EYES  AND  MET 

THOSE  OF  THE  WATCHER  " 22 

" '  HALT  ! '  SCREAMED  ONCE  MORE  DOCTOR  THEOPHILUS 

LEHMANN  " 82 

"  '  I  DRINK  TO  THE  MOST  BEAUTIFUL  WOMAN  IN  THE 

WORLD  !  '" 1 14 

"'YOU     NEVER     TOLD     ME     HE     WAS      SUCH     A     PRETTY 

BOY !  '" 196 

"THE  NEXT  INSTANT  HE  WAS  DOWN  ON  HIS  KNEES 
BESIDE  HER  AND  AGAIN  HIS  LIPS  WERE  PRESSED 
UPON  HER  HAND  "  .  242 

"  •  THEY  BECOME,  DO  THEY  NOT,'  SAID  SHE,  «  MY  BRONZE 

HAIR?'" 284 

"  IT  WAS  JULIA  DE  LUCENA  !  " 340 

XV 


YOUNG  APRIL 


"  Young  blood  doth  not  obey  an  old  decree." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

"DEAR  me,  is  it  possible?"  said  the  divine. 
"  I  must  rouse  the  lad  —  his  Grace,  I  should  say 
—  at  once." 

His  morning  cup  of  coffee  steamed,  fragrant  but 
untasted ;  his  crisp  roll  of  bread  maintained  its 
barley-grain  shape,  unbroken. 

The  Rev.  Thomas  Smiley  bent  over  the  open 
sheets  and  studied  them  again  with  protruding 
pale-hued  orbs  that  were,  in  their  surprise  at  what 
lay  before  them,  scarce  able  to  perform  their  duty 
and  carry  the  full  import  of  the  tidings  to  his 
brain. 

He  passed  his  hand  backwards  and  forwards 
across  his  chin ;  the  rasping  noise  produced  seemed 
to  exercise  a  bracing  effect  upon  his  faculties. 
Casting  a  glance  into  the  little  mirror  above  the 


2  Young  April 

washstand — an  envious  little  mirror  that  turned 
all  reflections  green  —  he  murmured,  "My  toilet 
is  not  yet  accomplished,"  and  made  an  energetic 
move  towards  the  small  jug  of  hot  water,  covered 
with  a  cloth,  spotless  white,  if  still  damp,  which 
the  handmaid  of  the  hotel  had  just  deposited  be- 
side his  diminutive  basin.  But,  with  his  hand 
upon  the  razor,  he  paused. 

John,  the  travelling  servant,  who  had  fetched 
the  letters  from  the  post-office,  —  English  John, 
who  must  have  left  at  least  one  sweetheart  in  dis- 
tant Sussex,  since  he  was  so  anxious  to  leave  each 
foreign  stage  behind,  —  who  knows  if  he  had  not 
found  his  courier  also,  and  whether  he  might  not 
be  beforehand  with  the  wonderful  news  ? 

"  I  would  be  the  first  with  the  young  Duke," 
murmured  the  clergyman.  "He  will  have  to 
excuse  —  nay,  he  will  even  perhaps  feel  indebted 
to  me  for  this  unceremonious  hurry." 

Mr.  Smiley  folded  his  dressing-gown  about  his 
portly  form,  thrust  his  feet  more  firmly  into  their 
slippers,  collected  the  scattered  documents  upon 
the  table,  and  hastened  from  his  room. 

The  passage  was  chill  and  draughty  with  a  win- 
dow open  at  each  end,  and  wet  boards  over  which 
a  slatternly  girl  was  slopping  with  a  pail  and  a 
bundle  of  rags. 


Young  April  3 

The  reverend  gentleman  felt  the  brisk  morning 
air  play  gaily  around  an  unprotected  portion  of 
leg,  and  the  consciousness  of  a  feminine  eye 
fixed  in  the  same  direction  imparted  an  un- 
wonted liveliness  to  his  gait,  as  well  as  a  modest 
flush  to  his  cheek,  as  he  shuffled  down  the 
corridor. 

The  journey  seemed  to  be  interminable,  his 
dressing-gown  to  shrink  into  indecency,  his  calves 
to  grow  into  Brobdingnagian  proportions.  At 
length  he  came  to  a  door  where  stood  the  pair  of 
smart  top-boots  familiar  to  him.  Here  he  halted, 
and  knocked.  Receiving  no  reply,  he  knocked 
again,  and  finally  entered  unbidden. 

The  sun  —  the  gay,  tender,  young  spring  sun  — 
was  streaming  into  the  room ;  but  he  who  occupied 
it  still  lay  plunged  in  sleep.  The  feather-bed  rose 
in  billows  all  around  him.  Of  the  sleeper  himself 
there  was  little  visible  except  a  flushed  fair  cheek, 
sundry  red  curls  beneath  a  purple  silk  handker- 
chief, and  one  outstretched  hand  —  long,  aristo- 
cratic, and  boyish. 

"  Ahem  !  "  said  Mr.  Smiley  aloud.  "It  seems  a 
pity  to  awaken  him  :  he  sleeps  so  sweetly.  Ahem ! 
Edward,  my  dear  boy ! "  He  laid  a  hand  upon  the 
bed-clothes,  a  liberty  which  the  sleeper  instantly 
resented  by  grunting  and  impatiently  pushing  it 


4  Young  April 

off.  "It  is  only,"  said  the  tutor  a  little  louder, 
"a  good  conscience  that  could  rest  thus.  It  is 
pleasant  for  me  to  think  that  I  have  had  charge 
of  it.  Hark  to  his  regular  breathing." 

The  other  was  now  ostentatiously  snoring. 

"My  dear  Edward!  My  Lord  Duke!  Your 
Grace!" 

"Eh?  What?"  cried  the  boy,  sitting  bolt  up- 
right. "Who  said  that?" 

"  It  is  I,"  said  his  mentor,  bowing  with  a  mixt- 
ure of  servility  and  pomposity.  "  I  have  hastened 
to  your  bedside,  charged,  I  grieve  to  have  to  an- 
nounce it  to  you,  with  melancholy,  unexpectedly 
melancholy,  and  startling  tidings." 

"What  is  it  that  you  called  me?" 

"My  dear  boy." 

"Pshaw!  It  was  not  that.  What  are  your 
tidings  ?  " 

"  John,  whom  I  despatched  the  first  thing  this 
morning  to  the  post,  returned  a  few  moments  ago 
with  a  packet  of  letters  addressed  to  me.  These, 
I  find,  contain  news  of  such  moment  to  yourself 
that  I  lost  not  an  instant — I  came,  as  you  see, 
just  as  I  am,  in  this  negligent  attire.  I  have  been 
commissioned  by  your  aunt,  the  widow  of  my  late 
lamented  gracious  patron,  to  break  to  —  your 
Grace " 


Young  Afril  5 

"  Is  my  uncle  dead  ? "  asked  the  young  man 
quietly. 

"'The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  has  taken 
away,' "  said  Mr.  Smiley.  " '  Blessed  be  the  name 
of  the  Lord.'  Your  Grace  is  now  the  Duke  of 
Rochester." 

He  rolled  the  title  upon  his  tongue  with  even 
more  loving  unction  than  the  text. 

"  Oh,  indeed ! "  said  his  pupil,  and  allowed  him- 
self to  subside  slowly  upon  his  pillows. 

"Compose  yourself,  my  dear  Edward;  I  beg 
you  to  compose  yourself.  Pray  recall  all  those 
principles  of  Christian  virtue  and  high-bred  self- 
control  which  it  has  been  my  duty  and  pleasure 
to  instil  into  your  young  mind  while  you  have 
been  under  my  care.  All  flesh  is  grass,  as  the 
Psalmist  has  it.  One  cometh  like  a  thief  in  the 
night,  eh  ?  " 

The  new  Duke  was  waving  his  hand  impatiently. 

"  Cut  that,  Mr.  Smiley,  and  give  me  the 
letters." 

The  bosom  of  Thomas  Smiley  swelled  beneath 
the  folds  of  his  night  attire.  A  gleam  flickered 
in  his  pale  eye,  but  it  was  only  for  a  moment. 

"  If  you  will  allow  me,  my  dear  young  friend, 
I  will  peruse  these  documents  aloud;  they  are 
addressed  to  me,  and  will  therefore  more  fitly  per- 


6  Young  April 

meate  to  you  through  ine,  if  I  may  so  express 
myself ;  such,  at  least,  I  gathered  to  be  the  wish 
of  your  bereaved  relative." 

He  who  had  gone  to  bed  as  plain  Edward  War- 
render  and  now  awoke  as  Duke  of  Rochester, 
Marquis  of  Braemar,  Baron  Clontarf,  and  what 
not  besides,  made  to  this  speech  no  reply.  The 
parson,  taking  silence  for  consent,  settled  his  bulk 
upon  a  horsehair  chair,  and  addressed  a  triangular 
portion  of  white  chin  which  was  all  that  was 
vouchsafed  to  his  vision  of  his  exalted  pupil's 
countenance. 

"This  is  the  communication  from  worthy  Mr. 
Shaw,  your  late  uncle's  man  of  business.  It  is 
well,"  said  Mr.  Smiley,  with  a  genial  attempt  at 
pleasantry,  "  to  put  business  first." 

The  triangle  of  chin  made  no  response,  and  so 
the  tutor  cleared  his  throat  and  proceeded : 

"Ahem!  'Stanhope  Street,  March  7,  1829.' 
Observe  the  date ;  these  letters  have  been  a  fort- 
night on  the  road,  and  have  been  waiting  here  for 
us  at  the  post,  according  to  the  postmark,  a  full 
ten  days ;  to-day  is  the  first  of  April." 

The  chin  wagged. 

"All  Fools' Day." 

Mr.  Smiley  paused  a  second,  but  not  being  able 
to  make  much  of  this  remark,  merely  capped  it 


Voting  April  7 

with  the  repetition  of  his  previous  entreaty: 
"  Compose  yourself,  my  dear  boy."  This  was, 
however,  not  so  indefinite  as  it  seemed,  for  it  not 
only  established  a  future  client  on  affectionate 
terms  with  a  wealthy  patron,  but  also  still 
shadowed  forth  for  the  time  the  authority  of  the 
guardian  over  the  escaping  pupil. 

The  Rev.  Thomas  Smiley  had  with  a  heavy 
hand  ridden  a  very  restive  horse  for  the  last 
eleven  months.  The  question  was  now  how  to 
soothe  the  refractory  animal  into  carrying  him  to 
his  goal,  or  at  least  into  allowing  him  to  dismount 
with  dignity.  It  would  be  an  unpleasant  experi- 
ence for  a  gentleman  of  the  cloth  to  find  himself 
rudely  obliged  to  exchange  a  seat  in  a  comfort- 
able saddle  for  a  collision  with  the  mud  of  the 
road. 

"  Ahem ! "  said  Mr.  Smiley,  clearing  his  throat 
again  with  pulpit  sonority.  "  Let  us  see  what  Mr. 
Shaw  says : 

'"REVEREND  SIR,  —  It  is  my  painful  duty  to 
be  obliged  to  inform  you  of  the  sudden  demise  of 
Mr.  Warrender's  uncle,  the  Duke  of  Rochester, 
who  was  found  dead  in  his  bed  this  morning. 
The  cause  of  death,  as  reported  by  the  doctors,  is 
apoplexy.  His  Grace  had  been  supping  in  town 


8  Young  April 

overnight,  and  it  is  apprehended  may  have  unduly 
over-excited  himself  in  the  company  of  his  friends.' 

"  It  is  very  melancholy,"  said  Mr.  Smiley,  turn- 
ing up  his  eyes.     "  Called  from  the  feast,  one  may 


say " 

"  Damned  fond  of  his  dinner  ! "  came  the  hard 
young  voice  from  the  bed-clothes. 

"  But  your  noble  uncle,  my  dear  young  friend, 
was  one  who  kept  his  lamp  burning." 

"  He  burnt  his  candle  at  both  ends,  if  that  is 
what  you  mean." 

Mr.  Smiley's  tongue  faltered. 

"He  was  ready  for  the  call,"  he  murmured 
vaguely  into  space,  and,  bringing  down  his  eyes 
once  more  to  the  letter,  proceeded  : 

" '  Kindly  break  the  news  to  your  charge,  who 
now,  very  much  sooner  than  anyone  would  have 
anticipated,  succeeds  to  the  title  and  estates, 
though  still  under  tutelage  until  the  first  of  May. 
In  lieu  of  the  late  Duke,  I  understand  that  I  am 
appointed  guardian,  together  with  the  Duchess. 
I  need  hardly  impress  upon  you  the  desirability  of 
your  at  once  conveying  your  pupil  home.  Her 
Grace  is  likewise,  I  understand,  communicating 
with  you  upon  the  subject.  The  obsequies  are 


Young  April  9 

fixed  for  Monday  the  12th.     It  is  unfortunate  that 
Mr.  Warrender's  absence  abroad  should  prevent 
his  attendance.     Pray  give  him  my  humble  com- 
pliments, and  believe  me  to  remain, 
"  '  Your  obedient  servant, 

"  '  WALTER  NATHANIEL  SHAW.' 

"Thus  worthy  Mr.  Shaw.  Now,  my  dear 
Edward,  I  take  your  revered  aunt's  —  her  Grace's 
—  letter.  Ah!  my  dear  young  friend,  what  a 
noble  lady  that  is  !  " 

The  legs  in  the  bed  became  agitated. 

"  A  more  gratifying,  a  more  Christian,  I  may 
say  a  more  inspiring,  document  it  has  never  been 
my  fate  to  peruse." 

His  dear  young  friend  hoisted  himself  up  against 
his  pillows,  and  sighed. 

"  Fire  away,"  said  he  sadly,  denuding  his  curly 
poll  of  the  purple  handkerchief  and  running  his 
hands  through  his  hair  so  that  it  stood  erect  upon 
every  side. 

Mr.  Smiley  looked  for  his  own  bandana  in  the 
pocket  of  his  morning-robe,  but,  finding  that  in  his 
agitation  he  had  omitted  to  provide  himself  with 
one,  reluctantly  prepared  to  deliver  the  document 
without  tears. 

"  This  is  likewise  dated  '  Stanhope  Street,  the 


I0  Young  April 

7th'  —  the  fatal  7th,"  he  observed  in  preliminary 
tones.  "  Admire  your  aunt's  great  fortitude,  my 
dear  boy,  who  could  leave  the  death-bed  of  a  be- 
loved husband  to  occupy  herself  with  the  concerns 
of  others." 

The  Duchess  of  Rochester  must  indeed  have 
possessed  remarkable  strength  of  character,  for  she 
had  been  able  to  indite,  not  only  an  exceedingly 
composed  and  business-like  epistle,  but  one  that 
was  also  very  long.  The  young  Duke,  indeed, 
during  the  course  of  its  recital,  seemed  unable  to 
repress  several  yawns.  Nevertheless  he  listened 
with  a  great  deal  of  attention. 

The  letter  was,  however,  as  Mr.  Smiley  had  said, 
truly  edifying,  especially  at  the  beginning.  The 
Duchess  announced  the  irreparable  calamity,  which 
it  had  pleased  the  Almighty  thus  unexpectedly  to 
inflict  upon  her,  in  well-rounded  periods  and  with 
as  nice  an  interpolation  of  texts  as  the  parson  him- 
self could  have  devised.  She  made  some  allusions 
to  her  own  overwhelming  grief  and  to  the  kind 
manner  in  which  Providence  was  enabling  her  to 
bear  up  —  which  news  she  felt  sure  would  rejoice 
the  pious  soul  of  her  reverend  friend. 

After  this  introduction  she  proceeded  to  give 
the  same  reverend  friend  very  precise  orders  con- 
cerning his  conduct  with  the  heir. 


Young  April  II 

" '  Pray  impress  upon  your  young  charge,' " 
wrote  the  afflicted  lady,  in  her  fine,  flourishing 
Italian  hand,  "  '  the  onerous  nature  of  the  duties 
which  now  devolve  upon  him.  True,  he  remains 
still  under  my  guardianship  and  under  the  busi- 
ness direction  of  Mr.  Shaw  until  he  comes  of  age ; 
but  that  date  is  only  a  few  short  weeks  hence,  a 
very  insufficient  time  of  preparation  for  the  high 
responsibilities  of  his  new  position,  for  one,  es- 
pecially, so  light-minded  and  headstrong  as,  from 
your  last  letter,  I  fear  Edward  still  is  — '  Ahem, 
ahem!  this,  my  dear  Edward,  merely  refers  to 
what  I  thought  it  incumbent  on  my  duty  to  say 
about  that  —  er  —  little  escapade  at  Vienna  — 
youthful  spirits,  my  dear  boy — juvenile  vitium 
regere  non  posse  impetum.  But  let  it  pass.  Note 
in  what  beautiful  words  her  Grace  proceeds." 

There  was  a  malicious  twinkling  in  the  brown 
eyes  now  boldly  fixed  upon  the  tutor  that  made 
the  latter  somewhat  anxious  to  pass  on  to  other 
subjects. 

"  *  I  feel  sure,  my  good  sir,  that  when  I  chose 
you  to  accompany  my  nephew  upon  the  grand 
tour,  I  chose  wisely.  For  your  religious  and 
chastened  principles  were  already  well  known  to 
me,  and  each  succeeding  communication  of  yours 
has  confirmed  my  opinion  that  you  are  the  fit 


12 


Young  April 


person  not  only  to  open  the  eyes  of  this  young 
man's  mind  to  the  critical  understanding  of  the 
divers  works  of  art  which  you  are  so  well  qualified 
to  point  out  in  the  different  towns  upon  your 
progress,  but  likewise  to  open  the  eyes  of  his 
young  soul  —  which  is  far  more  precious  know- 
ledge, dear  Mr.  Smiley  —  to  the  duties  required  of 
a  person  of  his  future  rank  in  life.  And  if  my 
nephew  has  hitherto  failed  to  profit  by  your  excel- 
lent counsels,  it  is  because ' 

"  Hem,  hem,  ha !  The  morning  air  is  chill," 
said  Mr.  Smiley,  with  great  presence  of  mind 
coughing  and  endeavouring  to  extend  his  dressing- 
gown  over  his  unclothed  nether  limbs.  "  But  I 
have  just  concluded.  '  It  is  my  intention,'  writes 
your  dear  aunt,  'that  Edward  shall  remain  in 
your  charge  for  at  least  as  long  as  I  have  any 
control  over  him.  After  that,  as  the  head  of  his 
house,  his  responsibilities  —  political,  territorial, 
and  social  —  will  be  such  as  will,  I  trust,  induce 
him  to  lay  aside  once  for  all  the  things  of  the 
child.  Edward  knows  the  line  I  have  marked  out 
for  him.  He  knows  the  bride  I  have  chosen  for 
him.  She  at  least  will  be  worthy  of  her  station  — 
for  that  I  can  answer.  Your  time,  dear  and 
reverend  sir,  will  not  have  been  lost,  if  you  now 
seize  every  opportunity  of  instilling  into  your 


Young  April  13 

pupil's  ears  the  necessity  of  docility  to  the  will  of 
those  to  whom  he  owes  everything,  and  who  by 
age  and  experience  are  so  much  better  fitted  to 
judge  what  is  best  for  his  welfare  than  he  himself, 
in  the  folly  and  exuberance  of  his  youth,  could 
possibly  be.  Edward  has  hitherto  shown  himself, 
both  to  his  uncle  and  to  myself,  very  recalcitrant 
to  discipline,  and  to  our  expressed  decisions  for 
his  future  life.  Indeed,  upon  my  last  mentioning 
the  matter  of  his  engagement  to  my  daughter, 
Lady  Sarah,  he  forgot  himself  so  far  as  to  make 
the  unbecoming  remark  that  he  was  not,  if  he 
knew  it,  going  to  be  tied  by  the  leg  before  he  had 
had  his  fling !  I  repeat  this  unmannerly  speech 
exactly  as  it  was  made  to  me,' "  Mr.  Smiley  read 
on  in  hollow  tones,  " '  in  order  that  you  may  judge 
of  the  extent  of  his  opposition  to  my  plans,  and 
that  you  may  know  where  to  plant  the  word  in 
season.  But  I  think  that  when  my  nephew  is 
made  to  realize  the  heavy  charges  with  which  all 
the  estates  that  must  come  to  him  are  encumbered, 
and  the  very  inadequate  means  with  which  he  will 
have  to  endeavour  to  maintain  his  exalted  position, 
he  will  realize  all  the  advantages  of  a  marriage 
with  one  who  can  bring  him  already  so  large  a 
fortune  —  not  to  mention  the  portion  which  it  is 
my  intention  to  leave  him,  should  he  be  guided 


14  Young  April 

by  my  wish.  These  are  circumstances  which,  he 
cannot  fail  to  see,  must  have  considerable  influence 
upon  his  future  happiness.' 

"Lady  Sarah  Warrender  is  a  very  beautiful 
young  woman,"  said  Mr.  Smiley,  throwing  up  a 
sly  glance  at  his  pupil. 

But  the  latter,  looking  down  at  his  bed-sheet, 
wore  a  moody  brow  and  seemed  to  be  engaged 
upon  some  mental  calculation. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  he  demanded  at  length  roughly. 

"  But  a  few  words  more.  *  Read  him  this  letter, 
my  good  sir ;  let  him  thoroughly  understand  my 
point  of  view.  I  am  actuated  solely  by  the  desire 
for  his  spiritual  and  temporal  benefit.'  The  last 
remarks,  my  dear  boy,"  said  Mr.  Smiley  modestly, 
"are  entirely  meant  for  myself,  and  are  dictated 
with  so  benevolent  a  regard  for  me,  that  you  will 
excuse  my  not  -reading  them  aloud.  Her  Grace 
concludes  by  impressing  upon  me  the  necessity  of 
my  conducting  you  home  immediately.  We  will 
start,  if  you  please,  this  very  day." 

"  Oh,  oh,  oh  —  oh  !  "  cried  the  new-fledged 
Duke,  with  a  yawn  fit  to  dislocate  his  jaw. 

"  I  will  now  leave  you  to  your  reflections,"  said 
the  tutor,  who  was  beginning,  indeed,  to  feel  the 
want  of  some  comfort  for  the  outer  and  inner 
divine.  "Nevertheless,  bear  in  mind  that  it  is 


Young  April  15 

already  past  nine  o'clock,  and  that  we  shall  have 
many  things  to  do  before  we  get  upon  our  way. 
Shall  I  send  John  to  your  Grace  ?  "  asked  the  rev- 
erend gentleman,  archly  bowing,  with  his  hand 
upon  the  lock. 

"  I  will  ring  if  I  want  him,"  said  the  youth, 
with  the  same  unamiable  scowl  which  had  accom- 
panied his  last  observation. 

"I  would  urge  upon  you  to  rise  immediately 
and  proceed  to  your  toilet,"  said  Mr.  Smiley,  pop- 
ping his  head  through  the  door  again. 

"  Oh,  devil  take  you,  Smiley  !  Leave  me  alone, 
can't  you  ?  "  cried  the  other. 

The  tutor  closed  the  door  and  proceeded  along 
the  passage  with  a  very  perturbed  and  perplexed 
countenance.  An  hour  ago  his  pupil  would  not 
have  ventured  to  address  him  otherwise  than 
"  Sir,"  much  less  to  have  sworn  at  him.  Yet  had 
he  been  conciliating  in  the  extreme.  Yesterday 
and  other  days,  when  he  had  ruled  with  a  rod  of 
iron,  if  the  boy  had  rebelled,  it  had  been  under 
his  breath.  These  were  disquieting  signs.  The 
tutor  shook  his  head  sadly  as  he  re-entered  his 
room. 


II 


u  Elle  £tait  jeune,  et  son  ceil  plein  de  joie 

Faisait  rever.  .  .  ." 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

THE  countenance  of  the  new  Duke  of  Roches- 
ter as  he  slid  out  of  bed  and  then  remained  half 
sitting,  with  a  pair  of  slender,  shapely  legs  ex- 
tended, was  that  of  one  plunged  in  deep  reflec- 
tion. His  hair  stood  erect,  like  flames  in  the 
sunshine;  his  beardless  face,  naturally  of  a  curi- 
ous whiteness,  not  unhealthy,  but  singularly  unaf- 
fected by  passing  emotion,  bore  as  marked  an 
expression  of  dissatisfaction  as  the  somewhat  im- 
passive features  would  permit.  A  well-built  lad, 
just  done  with  growing,  though  hardly  reaching 
above  the  middle  height,  Englishman  was  writ 
upon  every  line  of  face  and  figure.  An  air  of 
high  breeding  was,  after  all,  perhaps  the  most 
noticeable  point  about  him,  and  with  this  an 
unconscious  consciousness  of  race-exclusiveness 
in  every  manifestation  of  personality:  in  the 
curl  of  the  lip  that  barely  deigns  to  explain  a 
16 


Young  April  17 

speech,  in  the  lift  of  the  eyebrow  over  an  infe- 
rior world,  in  the  passing  glance  of  the  careless 
eye,  in  the  level  ring  of  the  voice  that  expects 
obedience.  Inheritor  of  fifteen  generations  of 
the  great,  the  highly  fed,  the  delicately  nurtured, 
Edward  Warrender  belonged  to  the  fortunate  few 
who  are  born  superior  to  the  toilers  of  the  earth, 
and  looked  the  part.  But  the  soul  within  him 
was  yet  very  young,  and  youth  is  youth  all  the 
world  over.  No  man,  be  he  duke  or  chimney- 
sweep, is  twenty  for  nothing. 

Twenty ! 

"I'll  be  damned,"  said  the  seventh  Duke  of 
Rochester,  gloomily  surveying  his  toes  —  "  I'll  be 
damned  if  I  stand  it  any  longer!  For  eleven 
months  that  jackdaw  Smiley  has  dragged  me  from 
pillar  to  post  —  from  Paris  to  Rome,  from  Vienna 
to  Dresden  —  and  never  a  step  outside  the  shadow 
of  his  blown-out  black  waistcoat !  Never  an  hour 
without  his  croak,  croak,  croak,  in  my  ear,  without 
his  infernal  rosy  gills  blocking  my  view  of  the 
world ;  never  a  guinea  spent  but  must  pass 
through  his  claws!  Good  Gad!  am  I  always  to 
be  handed  from  one  keeper  to  another,  always  to 
be  tootled  about  life  at  the  end  of  somebody's 
string  ?  *  He  shall  remain  in  your  charge.  .  .  . 
Convey  him  home.  .  .  .  Bring  the  little  dear  into 


jg  Young  April 

his  aunty's  arms.  .  .  .  Let  him  take  the  pretty 
wife  she  has  chosen  for  him — fie!  fie!  he  must 
not  kick,  or  scratch,  or  say  he  won't,  for  then  he 
shall  have  no  nice  cake ;  and  what  is  the  good  of 
being  a  Duke  if  you  can  have  no  cake  ? '  Ah ! 
the  old  lady  has  the  whip-hand  of  me  there,  and 
she  knows  it.  Not  that  I  mind  Sally;  Sally  is 
good  enough  for  any  fellow,  even  without  her 
money-bags  —  too  good  with  them  to  be  let  go  in 
a  hurry.  But  to  make  a  man  marry  before  he  has 
had  time  to  find  out  for  himself  that  he  is  a  man  ! 
It  is  infernal  hard  lines !  Nursery,  school,  college ; 
grand  tour  with  Smiley;  marriage  with  Sally  — 
marriage !  Kids !  kids  ! "  he  gasped ;  "  and  I  have 
not  even  begun  to  kick  the  spring  out  of  my  own 
legs !  '  Responsibilities,'  '  social,  territorial,  politi- 
cal'! And  that  is  my  life  —  must  be  my  life. 
Hang  it  all !  I  can't  quarrel  with  my  bread-and- 
butter.  I  wish  to  God  Uncle  Rochester  had  lived 
another  five  years,  another  ten  years !  I  might 
have  had  a  chance  then  to  crack  my  nuts  before 
my  teeth  fall  out.  *  Convey  him  home,  my  dear 
Mr.  Smiley ! '  Convey  the  devil !  I  am  not  such 
a  fool  as  to  stay  away  when  I  have  a  property  to 
look  after,  and  a  place  to  step  into,  and  a  whole 
world  of  rogues  to  keep  in  order.  In  a  month  I 
shall  be  my  own  master,  by  law  —  my  own  master ! 


Young  April  19 

A  pleasant  fiction,  that!  Till  then  there  is  a 
month  —  a  month  yet " 

The  Duke  of  Rochester  stamped  his  bare  foot, 
leaped  to  the  table,  emptied  a  somewhat  shabby 
purse,  and  made  a  scornful  calculation. 

"  Exactly  thirty-six  shillings  and  fivepence,  reck- 
oned in  English  money;  watch  and  chain,  worth 
—  worth  nothing  —  heirlooms.  Damn  !  damn  ! 
damn!" 

The  young  man  dashed  the  paltry  coins  from 
him,  went  to  the  window,  and  tore  it  open  as  if 
breathing  air  had  suddenly  failed  him. 

A  brisk,  chill,  yet  sun-enlivened  breeze  rolled 
merrily  into  the  room,  fanning  his  breast  and 
neck,  blowing  round  his  young  body,  wantonly 
making  his  fine  linen  shirt  balloon  and  flap.  He 
felt  his  blood  leap  under  the  caress,  as  a  man's 
might  beneath  the  touch  of  his  beloved.  He  drew 
in  the  keen  air  in  deep  breaths:  it  tingled  like 
potent  wine  through  his  frame.  All  the  youth 
in  him  called  out  to  the  youth  renewed  of  the 
spring  world  without,  that  was  all  movement  and 
scent  and  sound  and  colour.  Above,  the  sky  was 
of  a  glorious  blue ;  below,  an  almond-tree  strewed 
its  pink  blossoms  on  the  white  cobblestones  in  the 
corner  of  the  courtyard,  where  the  shadows  lay 
black  and  distinct  as  if  cut  out  of  paper.  The 


2O  Young  April 

breeze  brought  the  heart-stirring  perfume  of 
spring  sunshine;  the  swallows  darted  to  and  fro 
with  sharp,  joyful  cry.  A  maid  stood  by  the  pump 
in  the  middle  drawing  water  into  her  bright  brass 
can.  She  was  clad  in  scarlet  skirt  and  white  shift. 
A  stableman,  coming  up  behind  her,  snatched  a  kiss 
from  the  nape  of  her  neck.  —  Smack  !  The  Duke 
heard  it  from  his  second-floor  window  —  and  smack 
again,  but  louder,  from  the  maid's  palm  on  the 
man's  ruddy  cheek ;  and  much  laughter  on  either 
side. 

"  My  God ! "  said  the  Duke,  "  even  that  hind  in 
his  clogs  is  a  freer  man  than  I." 

The  air  was  full  of  busy,  merry  sounds:  the 
jangle  of  bells,  the  richer  notes  of  the  Cathedral 
chimes,  the  hum  of  the  town,  the  cries  of  passing 
venders,  the  crack  of  whips,  the  striking  of  hoofs 
on  the  stones,  the  roll  of  wheels,  the  call  of  jovial 
voices.  It  all  rose  about  his  ears,  and  seemed  to 
summon  him  out,  with  irresistible  lure,  into  a  joy- 
ous and  unknown  life. 

Beyond  the  shadow  of  the  archway  on  the  left 
he  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  street  —  dazzling 
white,  ceaselessly  crossed  by  cart  or  coach,  man  or 
woman  or  child,  all  bent  upon  their  way,  all,  it 
seemed  to  him,  free  to  go  and  come  as  they 
pleased. 


Young  April  21 

He  knew  that  this  street  led  out  across  the 
bridge  and  out  again  through  the  town  gates  to 
the  highroad,  and  that  the  highroad  led  out  across 
the  green  country  towards  blue  horizons — whither, 
whither  ?  His  soul  rose  to  the  very  edge  of  his 
lips  and  fluttered  like  a  bird  that  must  taste  free- 
dom or  die. 

"Thirty  days  out  of  my  life,"  he  murmured; 
"at  least,  it  is  not  too  much  to  ask.  Thirty 
days ! " 

As  in  his  flapping  shirt,  in  the  full  blaze  of 
the  sunshine,  he  stood  leaning  against  the  open 
casement,  absorbed  in  conflicting  emotions  and 
thoughts,  there  wound  into  his  consciousness  a 
call,  faint  but  distinct  from  the  tissue  of  sounds 
without.  At  first,  woven  into  the  intensity  of  his 
feelings,  it  seemed  merely  their  own  creation,  the 
bugle-call  of  his  desires,  but  presently,  dominating 
and  intrusive,  it  aroused  him  to  outer  observation  : 
it  was  the  horn  of  some  travelling  chaise,  approach- 
ing ever  nearer  and  blown  with  imperiousness  and 
frequency.  Next  came  the  clatter  of  eight  heavy 
hoofs  and  the  roll  of  bounding  wheels. 

The  Duke's  young  interest  was  aroused;  he 
craned  out  of  the  window,  pleased  in  boylike 
fashion  that  the  travellers'  destination  should  be 
his  hotel.  The  steaming,  tired,  sinewy  horses 


22  Voting  April 

were  turned  jogging  into  the  courtyard  and  drawn 
up  before  the  main  wing  of  the  house.  The  place 
became  all  at  once  alive  —  stablemen,  waiters,  and 
mine  host  himself,  bowing  and  rubbing  his  hands, 
hurried  to  greet  the  guests.  It  was  a  hired  travel- 
ling chaise,  laden  with  boxes  front  and  back. 
There  was  a  sleepy-looking  man-servant  yawning 
in  the  rumble  beside  a  pert  waiting-maid  in  green 
silk,  who  balanced  a  birdcage  upon  her  knee. 
Behind  the  glass  window  the  Duke  thought  he 
caught  a  glimpse  of  auburn  tresses  and  of  a  white 
hand.  He  watched  eagerly,  and  saw  the  inn- 
keeper's bald  head  flash  two  or  three  times  with 
the  rapidity  of  his  bows,  and  then  beheld  him 
gallantly  assist  forth  a  lady. 

"Some  Grafin  or  Comtesse,"  thought  the  boy. 
"  A  deuced  fine  woman !  "  thought  the  young  man. 

Next  came  a  vision  of  an  alert,  sandalled  foot 
taking  ground,  of  a  splendid  form  in  gray  silk 
emerging  from  the  depth  of  the  coach,  of  a  pro- 
fusion of  unruly  chestnut  curls  beneath  a  be- 
feathered  hat.  The  white  hand,  upon  which 
sparkled  many  gems,  moved  peremptorily  hither 
and  thither ;  a  ringing  voice,  unmodulated  and  yet 
musical,  gave  sundry  orders,  right  and  left,  and 
became  presently  very  much  raised  in  discussion 
with  the  postilion,  who  responded  by  a  growling 


'AT  THE  SAME  MOMENT  .  .  .  LIFTED  HER   EYES  AND   MET  THOSE  OF 
THE  WATCHER  " 


Young  April  23 

objurgation,  inaudible,  of  course,  at  this  distance 
to  the  listener,  but  unmistakably  hostile.  The 
lady,  however,  was  decided  and  voluble,  and  came 
off  victorious,  if  a  resigned  shrug  of  her  Jehu's 
shoulders  might  be  interpreted  to  mean  defeat. 

"No  great  dame,  perhaps,  after  all,"  said  the 
Duke,  "  but,  by  George  !  she  has  a  lovely  face." 

With  an  exclamation  loud  enough  to  be  heard 
all  over  the  yard,  the  object  of  his  admiration 
now  heaved  a  tremendous  sigh  of  mingled  relief 
and  fatigue. 

"  Phew ! " 

She  then  mounted  the  three  steps  of  the  porch, 
snatched  a  reticule  from  the  grasp  of  the  obse- 
quious landlord,  and  hung  it  upon  her  own  wrist. 
At  the  same  moment  she  glanced  curiously  around 
the  court,  lifted  her  eyes,  and  met  those  of  the 
watcher. 


Ill 

"Such  a  hare  is  madness,  the  youth,  to  skip  over  the 

meshes  of  good  council,  the  cripple." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

THE  lady  looked  at  the  Englishman,  and  the 
Englishman  looked  at  the  lady. 

He  saw  her  eyes  grow  round,  and  an  adorable 
red  mouth, part  over  the  loveliest  teeth  with  the 
most  good-humoured  smile  in  the  world.  Her 
hand  went  up,  and,  forefinger  on  the  point,  the 
gesture  of  an  unsophisticated  child : 

"  Oh !  but  do  me  the  favour  to  look  at  that  one," 
cried  she. 

These  words  came  shrilly  across  the  courtyard, 
accompanied  by  a  crow  of  laughter.  And  the  fine 
proportions  he  had  but  just  admired  shook  till  the 
gray  silk  shimmered  again. 

All  eyes  went  up :  landlord's,  waiters'  and  pos- 
tilion's, lady's-maid's  and  stableman's,  the  very 
horses'  and  pigeons',  it  seemed.  And,  acutely 
conscious  of  his  light  attire,  the  young  man  re- 
tired, blushing,  into  the  inner  recesses  of  his  room ; 
24 


Young  April  25 

but  not  before  he  had  caught  a  pleasant  nod  — 
nay,  and  if  he  did  not  greatly  err,  something 
singularly  akin  to  a  wink  —  from  the  merry-eyed 
lady  on  the  steps. 

It  was  not  all  youthful  ingenuous  modesty  that 
sent  the  blood  flying  to  his  cheeks.  It  needs  but 
a  spark  to  kindle  a  well-laid  fire.  Start  at  noon  — 
with  Smiley  ?  Never ! 

"  Thirty  days,"  said  the  Duke  —  "  thirty  days 
are  an  eternity,  and  by  the  Lord  Harry  I  shall 
have  them !  " 

»  *  •  •  * 

Mr.  Smiley  had  recovered  his  equanimity.  John, 
who  had  a  nice  hand  on  the  razor,  had  shaved  the 
reverend  countenance  to  velvet  smoothness,  and 
there  are  few  things  more  restoring  to  a  man's 
self-esteem  than  the  consciousness  of  being  prop- 
erly shaven. 

As  he  proceeded  to  clothe  his  portly  form  in 
decent  clerical  black,  a  genial  smile  gradually 
crept  over  his  features.  He  had  acted  mentor  to 
many  sprigs  of  nobility,  but  never  before  to  a  full- 
blown Duke.  High  in  favour  with  this  exalted 
person's  nearest  and  most  influential  relatives,  it 
would  be  strange  indeed  if  some  material  advan- 
tage did  not  accrue  to  himself  from  this  extraor- 
dinary turn  of  Fortune's  wheel.  He  must,  of 


26  Young  April 

course,  win  his  pupil's  graces,  too,  but  that  ought 
to  prove  an  easy  matter.  Mr.  Smiley  knew  he 
could  be  very  winning  when  he  pleased. 

"  A  little  judicious  indulgence,"  said  the  clergy- 
man, "  will  not  now  come  amiss." 

His  mental  eye  applied  itself  to  the  peephole 
of  an  agreeable  future.  While  he  mechanically 
wound  his  white  stock,  distributed  his  curls, 
buttoned  his  long  waistcoat,  his  lips  formed,  half 
aloud,  broken  sentences,  and  extended  even  more 
pleasantly  under  the  process. 

"The  Rectory  of  Marlow,  in  the  gift  of  his 
Grace  the  Duke  of  Rochester,  has,  we  understand, 
been  bestowed  upon  the  Rev.  Thomas  Smiley, 
M.A.  Oxon.  This  gentleman,  well  known  for  his 
classical  erudition  and  extensive  knowledge  of  art, 
and  whom  several  well-known  noblemen  have 
entrusted  with  the  charge  of  their  sons  during 
those  prolonged  foreign  tours  so  necessary  to  the 
completion  of  a  young  Englishman's  education, 
has  but  recently  returned  from  the  Continent 
with  his  Grace  the  Duke  of  Rochester.  .  .  . 
We  learn  that  the  Very  Rev.  Thomas  Smiley, 
M.A.,  D.D.,  Rector  of  Marlow  Magna,  Prebendary 
of  Ely  Cathedral,  has  been  appointed  Canon  of 
Peterborough.  .  .  .  There  is  much  discussion  as 
to  who  will  be  chosen  to  fill  the  famous  Bishopric 


Young  April  27 

of  Bath  and  Wells.  It  has  been  rumoured  that 
the  Duke  of  Rochester  intends  to  bestow  upon 
his  once  beloved  tutor,  now  his  no  less  cherished 
friend " 

Mr.  Smiley  looted  down  at  his  legs :  how  well 
the  violet  silk  would  clothe  that  shapely  calf ! 
He  rang  the  bell  and  requested  a  fresh  breakfast 
in  so  benevolent  a  tone  that  the  damsel,  mistaking 
its  paternal  character,  showed  unusual  alacrity  in 
complying  with  its  demands.  She  was  disap- 
pointed to  be  rewarded  only  by  a  benediction. 
Nevertheless,  the  suavity  of  the  worthy  gentleman 
sent  her  forth  admiring,  and  he  drank  his  coffee 
and  ate  his  roll  with  as  fine  an  air  of  duty  well 
performed  as  if  he  were  feeding  the  widow  and 
orphan.  He  was  comfortably  reflecting  on  the 
immediate  details  of  business  preliminary  to  de- 
parture, and  conning  over  certain  phrases  of  that 
reply  letter  to  the  Duchess,  which  was  to  be  a 
masterpiece  of  its  kind,  when  an  imperious  knock 
at  the  door  was  followed  by  the  immediate  appari- 
tion of  his  pupil. 

"I  should  like  a  few  words  with  you,  Mr. 
Smiley." 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  boy,  certainly,"  said  Mr. 
Smiley,  hastening  to  advance  a  chair  to  the  table, 
and  obsequiously  removing  the  tray. 


28  Young  April 

The  Duke  sat  himself  down,  folded  his  hands 
on  the  walnut  table  between  him  and  his  tutor, 
and  looked  steadily  at  that  gentleman.  There 
was  speculation  in  his  eye,  but  no  hesitation. 

"  I  think  it  is  as  well,  Mr.  Smiley,"  he  began, 
"that  we  should  thoroughly  understand  each 
other  through  the  rest  of  this  journey.  May  I  ask 
whether  it  is  your  intention  to  treat  me  in  the  way 
you  have  done  hitherto  —  that  is  to  say,  like  a 
schoolboy  ?  " 

"My  dear  Edward,"  said  Mr.  Smiley,  greatly 
distressed,  "you  misunderstand,  you  have  much 
misunderstood  me.  Consider  the  responsibility  of 
my  post.  If,  in  my  anxiety  to  prevent  you  falling 
either  into  the  follies  or  the  dangers  to  which 
Youth  of  his  own  essence  is  prone,  I  have  erred 
on  the  side  of  conscientiousness  —  I  may  have 
done  so;  humanum  est  errare  — it  is  never  too  late, 
the  proverb  hath  it,  to  mend." 

"  Well,  I  am  sick  of  it,  and  that  is  all  about  it," 
said  the  Duke,  and  drummed  his  white  fingers  on 
the  table.  "  I  am  Duke  of  Rochester,  peer  of  the 
realm,  and  if  you  think  I  am  going  to  be  hauled 
home  in  tow  and  ordered  here  and  warned  off 
there,  and  paid  for  and  fed  and  put  to  bed,  you 
are  very  much  mistaken." 

There  was  danger  signalled  in  the  boy's  eye, 


Young  April  29 

and  danger  in  the  emphatic  slap  with  which  he 
closed  his  sentence ;  danger  too  in  the  snap  of  his 
jaw.  The  wise  man  is  never  so  wise  as  when  he 
yields  in  time.  So  thought  the  future  Canon  of 
Peterborough. 

"  Quite  so,  my  young  friend  ,•  I  fully  under- 
stand; indeed,  in  your  position  this  would  be 
unbecoming.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  thwart  you  in 
any  legitimate  desire.  You  shall  have  the  general 
arrangement  of  all  our  plans.  I  propose  that  we 
shall  leave  to-day,  after  the  mid-day  meal.  You 
can  yourself  give  the  orders  to  John  and  to  the 
landlord;  and  if  you  like  to  pick  the  horses  for 
the  first  post,"  said  Mr.  Smiley,  pleasantly  con- 
scious of  his  insight  into  the  workings  of  a  young 
man's  mind  — "  young  men  Jike  to  display  their 
knowledge  of  horseflesh " 

"  Pooh !  "  said  the  Duke. 

There  was  such  scorn  in  the  ejaculation  that 
the  comfortable  rosy  colour  faded  a  little  from 
Mr.  Smiley's  gills. 

"If  your  Grace  should  desire,"  said  he  in  a 
flustered  way,  "a  small  advance  from  the  funds 
entrusted  to  me  for  our  expenses,  I  should  be 
most  willing  to  meet  you  in  the  matter.  It  is 
not,"  said  the  parson  with  a  pale  smile,  "  exactly 
in  accordance  with  the  instructions  given  to  me 


jo  Young  April 

by  your  worthy  aunt,  but  I  think  I  may  stretch 
a  point." 

He  rose  and  drew  a  leather  case  from  the  inner 
recess  of  a  black  bag  that  stood  beside  his  bed. 

"  Let  us  see,"  said  the  Duke :  "  have  you  plenty 
of  money,  Mr.  Smiley  ?  " 

"Oh,  plenty;  we  have  been  generously  pro- 
vided for." 

"No  fear  of  our  running  short,  eh?  It  won't 
do  for  us  to  travel  like  tradesmen,  now  that  I  am 
—  what  I  arn." 

"  My  dear  young  sir,  trust  me  to  know  what  is 
fit.  All  shall  be  carried  on  as  beseems  our  rank  ; 
and  though  we  shall  have  to  travel  post-haste,  if 
we  had  to  buy  the  horses  instead  of  hiring  them 
we  could  hardly  spend  three  hundred  sovereigns. 
I  cashed  our  last  draft  yesterday." 

His  fingers  fumbled  with  the  openings  of  the 
pocket-book  and  displayed  the  notes  which  bulged 
within. 

"  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Smiley  playfully,  "  that  I 
can  spare  you  a  five-pound  note  —  a  ten-pound 
note,"  he  added  hastily. 

But  the  young  man's  countenance  did  not 
relax. 

"  Are  all  your  funds  here  ? "  he  said,  and  took 
up  the  pocket-book.  "Is  that  all  we  have?" 


Young  April  31 

"All,  my  dear  boy,  all,"  said  the  divine  —  he 
could  not  quite  gather  the  drift  of  his  pupil's 
question,  but  he  was  still  determined  to  humour 
him  — "  except  what  is  contained  in  this  little 
canvas  bag  —  a  few  gold  pieces  and  silver  coin- 
age, change  for  our  immediate  expenses." 

In  the  candour  of  his  spirit,  he  drew  the  little 
bag  in  question  from  his  breast-pocket  and 
plumped  it  on  the  table. 

Instantly  the  Duke,  passing  the  leather  case  to 
his  left  hand,  extended  his  right  and  firmly  took 
possession  of  the  canvas  bag. 

"  He,  he,  he  !  "  said  the  parson  with  an  uneasy 
laugh.  "  Now  you  have  it  all,  my  dear  boy ;  you 
have  positively  beggared  me." 

He  extended  a  soft  pink  palm  as  he  spoke. 
For  reply  the  Duke  placed  the  case  in  one  breast- 
pocket and  the  bag  in  the  other,  buttoned  his 
gray  frock-coat  across,  folded  his  arms,  and 
looked  calmly  at  his  quondam  master.  He  could 
not,  however,  keep  a  little  twinkle  of  triumph 
from  dancing  in  each  eye. 

"  An  excellent  joke,"  said  the  clergyman. 
"  But  come,  Edward,  return  to  me  the  sinews  of 
war  —  or,  rather,  I  should  say,  of  travel  —  with- 
out which  we  cannot  proceed." 

The   Duke   gave   a  chuckle ;  but  immediately 


32  Young  April 

checking  himself,  resumed  his  new  r61e  of  dig- 
nity and  independence. 

"Mr.  Smiley,"  he  said  blandly,  "you  must 
quite  understand  that  the  Duke  of  Rochester 
can  no  longer  accept  the  humiliating  position  of 
having  his  own  money  doled  out  for  him  before 
everybody.  Turn-about  is  fair-play:  I  am  pay- 
master now." 

The  tutor  rose  to  his  feet. 

"This  is  a  most  extraordinary,  a  most  repre- 
hensible proceeding ! "  he  was  beginning  hotly ; 
but  on  second  thoughts,  with  a  gulp,  succeeded 
in  controlling  himself.  "  Come,  my  boy,"  said 
he,  with  a  rueful  attempt  to  recover  his  jocular 
manner,  "  let  us  make  a  bargain.  You  shall  have 
a  fair  share  of  the  money  for  your  own  expenses, 
and  return  to  me  the  rest " 

"  Not  a  penny ! " 

"  Monstrous  ! "  cried  the  enraged  mentor,  in- 
stinct and  the  natural  man  getting  the  better  of 
his  mellifluous  veneer.  "  Do  you  browbeat  me,  sir  ?  " 

"  Now,  look  here,  Smiley :  matters  are  consider- 
ably changed  between  us,  and  you  had  better  make 
up  your  mind  to  it  at  once.  We  shall  not  start,  if 
you  p^lease,  until  nightfall;  meanwhile,  you  and 
John  will  be  good  enough  to  take  your  instruc- 
tions from  myself." 


Young  April  33 

"  Do  not  think,"  said  Mr.  Smiley,  choking  with 
the  fury  that  compressed  his  throat  and  injected 
his  eyes  with  blood,  "  that  I  will  permit  this  un- 
seemly jest  to  be  carried  any  further.  You  have 
no  right  to  the  money  of  which  you  have  just  — 
yes,  I  must  use  the  word  —  almost  feloniously 
deprived  me,  and  I  have  the  legal  right  to  con- 
trol you  and  your  actions  for  another  month. 
We  may  be  in  a  foreign  town,  sir;  nevertheless, 
there  is  justice  to  be  had  —  there  are  legal  officers 
to  enforce  it.  I  should  be  sorry  to  resort  to  force, 
but " 

"  I  should  reflect,  if  I  were  you,  Smiley,  before 
I  went  on  like  that,"  said  the  young  man  quietly. 
"  One  month !  Is  it  worth  while  making  an 
enemy  of  me  ?  I  have  heard,"  proceeded  the 
Duke  in  a  tone  of  superb  insolence,  "that  there 
are  some  damn  fat  preferments  in  the  gift  of 
Rochester." 

Mr.  Smiley  went  purple ;  then  he  went  pale. 
He  put  up  his  hand  and  fairly  gasped.  The  lad 
held  him  under  a  hard,  unwavering  eye. 

"  I  should  be  loath,"  repeated  the  poor  parson, 
whining  — "  very  loath  to  employ  force.  It 
would,  indeed,  be  against  all  my  feelings." 

His  pupil  gave  a  short  laugh,  and  turned  on  his 
heel. 


34  Young  April 

"We  shall  not  start  until  nightfall,"  he  re- 
peated. Then:  "Do  not  expect  me  to  join  you 
at  the  mid-day  meal ;  but  pray  order,"  he  added, 
grinning,  "anything  you  may  fancy." 

The  Duke  opened  the  door  and  stepped  across 
the  threshold  somewhat  hurriedly,  for  he  found  it 
very  hard  to  keep  from  a  very  schoolboy-like 
guffaw  of  laughter. 

A  plaintive  appeal  fell  vainly  upon  his  ear  before 
he  shut  himself  out : 

"  At  least,  your  Grace  — at  least  leave  me  a  few 
florins ! " 


IV 


"  The  Devil  hath  not  in  all  his  quiver's  choice 
An  arrow  for  the  heart  like  a  sweet  voice." 

BYRON. 

"  JOHN,"  said  the  Duke,  ".pack  my  portmanteau. 
And  for  the  future,  John,  come  to  me  for  all  your 
directions." 

"  Yes,  your  Grace,"  said  John  respectfully  to 
the  first  order  (he  had  heard  the  great  news  during 
his  ministrations  to  Mr.  Smiley's  chin)  ;  and  "  Yes, 
Mr.  Edward  —  your  Grace,  I  mean,"  with  a  grin, 
to  the  second. 

The  Duke  placed  his  gray  beaver  at  a  knowing 
angle  on  his  head ;  one  hand  in  his  breeches-pocket 
jangled  the  eighteen  florins  (those  condemned 
thirty-six  shillings  of  English  money)  with  a 
charming  sensation  of  independence ;  in  the  other 
hand  he  loosely  swung  an  inexpensive  cane. 

"  I  must  buy  myself  a  malacca,"  said  the  boy. 

He  emerged  out  of  the  cold  gloom  of  the  flagged 
passage  into  the  genial  sun-warmed  yard.  The 
yard  was  empty  except  for  the  pigeons,  the  almond- 
trees,  and  the  horseless  chaise. 

35 


36  Young  April 

From  the  three  low  windows  on  the  kitchen  side 
of  the  inn  proceeded  the  hum  of  many  voices,  the 
clink  of  crockery,  and  the  steam  of  hot  viands.  It 
was  evident  that  the  serving-folk  of  the  Red  Eagle 
and  of  the  Red  Eagle's  guests  were  engaged  upon 
their  mid-day  meal.  Now  and  again  a  burst  of 
laughter  and  a  stave  of  song  proclaimed  that  the 
performance  was  not  unattended  with  joviality. 
This  inner  sound  emphasized  by  contrast  the 
silence  without.  Few  wayfarers  were  passing  in 
the  street  beyond,  hardly  a  cart.  The  whole  town 
was  devoting  its  energies  to  the  meridian  consump- 
tion of  pot-herbs  and  swine-flesh. 

As  the  Duke  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  deserted 
cobble-stones  and  watched  the  pigeons  bow  and 
strut  around  him,  he  felt  a  little  puzzled  as  to 
what  to  do,  for  the  moment,  with  his  newly 
acquired  liberty.  His  plans  were  all  vague,  not 
to  say  chaotic. 

The  fact  that  he  now  could  do  what  he  liked 
with  himself  made  him  hesitate  on  the  choice  of 
any  one  thing.  On  a  single  point  only  was  his 
mind  determined:  free  of  Smiley  he  would  remain, 
and  home  to  England  he  would  not  turn  for  at 
least  thirty  blessed  days.  He  glanced  at  the  vane 
above  the  brown  stable  gables.  Which  way  blew 
the  wind  ?  South,  south-east ! 


Yotmg  April  37 

In  falling,  his  glance  reached  the  shabby  travel- 
ling-chaise, arid  there  his  eye  grew  fixed.  It  seemed 
as  if  it  was  studying  with  earnest  attention  every 
rubbed  and  patched  strap,  every  ungainly  line,  but 
in  reality  it  saw  not  one  item  —  nothing  but  a 
young,  laughing  face,  a  mocking  glance,  an  opulent, 
womanly  form. 

"  I  wonder,"  thought  the  young  man,  awakening 
from  his  reverie  with  a  heightened  animation  on 
his  countenance,  "  which  her  room  may  be  ?  "  His 
looks  travelled  vainly  over  the  rows  of  windows. 
"  And  I  wonder  whether  she  means  to  remain  any 
time  here  ?  Confound  that  Smiley,  he  is  always 
in  my  way !  " 

At  this  moment  a  door  opened  with  some  vio- 
lence, and  out  came  the  surly  postilion,  bare-headed, 
wiping  his  mouth  vehemently  with  the  back  of 
his  hand  as  he  strode  along ;  he  was  also  cursing 
freely. 

He  brushed  past  the  Englishman  without  the 
least  deferential  sign,  seized  the  chaise  by  the  pole 
and  dragged  it  forward  a  few  paces. 

"  May  the  hangman  have  all  such,  say  I !  To 
ride  all  night,  and  scarce  to  be  given  an  hour  to 
swallow  a  morsel  —  the  devil's  tail  is  on  it !  This 
is  a  cursed  life !  "  He  drove  his  fist  into  the  rum- 
ble, dragged  forth  a  cushion,  and  shook  it  venom- 


38  Young  April 

ously.  "  Confound  her  whims  and  fancies !  I  wish 
her  veal  chops  may  choke  her,  that  I  do ! "  He 
thumped  the  cushion  so  hard  that  he  was  enveloped 
in  a  cloud  of  dust,  and  cried  forth  again  between 
coughing  and  spitting :  "  May  the  hangman  have 
her!" 

"You  seem  put  out,  friend,"  said  the  Duke, 
smiling. 

The  man  cast  a  surly  glower  upon  him  and 
flung  his  cushion  on  the  ground.  He  was  not 
an  ill-looking  fellow,  nor  ill-built  either. 

"  And  so  would  you  be,"  said  he,  "  if  you  had 
to  put  up  with  a  life  like  mine." 

"  But  surely,"  said  his  interlocutor,  "  'tis  a  fine, 
free,  open-air  existence,  with  change  and  variety, 
and  little  trouble?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  the  man  scornfully,  and  now, 
folding  his  arms,  leaned  against  the  wheels  and 
surveyed  this  admirer  of  a  post-boy's  life  from 
head  to  foot.  Then,  as  if  impressed,  despite  his 
ill-humour,  by  the  young  aristocrat's  appearance, 
he  touched  his  forehead,  and  proceeded  more 
civilly,  but  still  with  much  bitterness :  "  Oh,  ay, 
ay,  'tis  a  very  pleasant  life,  as  your  honour  has  it. 
Yes:  plenty  of  open  air,  and  change,  and  variety — 
variety  of  weather :  in  winter,  frost  to  nip  your  nose 
and  your  toes ;  in  autumn,  the  rain,  and  the  wind 


Young  April  39 

to  drive  it  well  into  you.  And  lias  your  honour 
tried  the  pleasure  of  trotting  ten  miles  with  the 
breeches  on  your  seat  (saving  your  presence) 
squashing  out  the  water  at  every  bump?  And 
in  summer  there  is  the  sun,  white-hot  on  your 
back  until  the  marrow  frizzles;  and  there's  the 
dust  choking  you.  Oh,  as  your  honour  says,  it  is 
a  fine  life!" 

"But  in  the  spring,  my  good  fellow,  in  the 
spring,  on  a  day  like  this,  with  a  breeze  just 
strong  enough  to  cool  you,  and  the  sun  just  hot 
enough  to  warm,  and  a  little  rain  overnight  just 
enough  to  lay  the  dust  —  come  now,  you  will 
not  make  me  believe  that  you  have  so  much  to 
complain  of  on  a  day  like  this." 

"In  spring,  on  a  day  like  this,"  said  the  pos- 
tilion bitingly,  "  a  fellow  gets  a  fool  of  a  woman 
to  drive,  and  she  says,  out  of  all  reason,  that  it 
is  nothing  to  her  what  the  custom  is,  and  that  she 
will  drive  all  day  after  driving  all  night.  In  the 
spring,  on  a  day  like  this,  when  a  man  has  got 
his  Katie  in  the  town,  and  it  may  be  a  fortnight 
again  before  he  has  a  chance  of  seeing  her ! 
Devil  take  all  such,  say  I,  and  the  devil  take 
a  postilion's  life  ! " 

The  Duke  of  Rochester  was  much  interested; 
less,  perhaps,  in  the  man's  grievance  than  in  the 


40  Young  April 

cause  of  it.  So  the  fair  traveller  was  making 
but  a  hasty  halt! 

"  Where  are  you  bound  in  such  a  hurry  ? "  he 
inquired. 

"  Over  the  border  to  the  Capital.  And  that  is 
twenty  leagues  yet.  But  she  means  to  sleep  the 
night  at  the  Frontier  Bridge,  and  that  is  out  of 
all  reason,  too,  for  the  inn  is  not  fit  to  hold  a 
candle  to  this  one,  and " 

"And  there  is  no  Katie  in  that  town,"  said 
the  Duke  archly.  "Truly,  now,  you  see  how  a 
man  may  be  mistaken ;  for  a  little  while  ago,  as 
I  looked  out  of  the  window,  I  vow  and  declare 
that  I  thought  you  a  luckier  dog  than  myself. 
And  I  am  not  sure,"  added  the  Duke  reflectively, 
"  that  I  would  not  change  places  with  you  yet." 

"Eh,  does  milord  think  so?"  said  the  man, 
and  this  time  broke  into  a  grin.  "I  am  sure  I 
should  not  mind  changing  with  him." 

The  Duke  paused,  flicked  his  top-boots  with 
his  cane,  and  again  his  glance  wandered  specula- 
tively  over  the  windows. 

All  of  a  sudden,  through  some  open  casement, 
the  sound  of  a  singing  voice  came  wafted  into 
the  stillness  below.  There  was  a  glorious  upward 
reach,  a  sweetly  prolonged  note,  a  miraculous  trill, 
and  then  silence. 


Young  April  41 

«'  Oh ! "  said  the  Duke. 

"  There  she  goes ! "  growled  the  post-boy.  He 
detached  himself  from  his  resting  posture,  aimed 
a  vicious  kick  at  the  old  chaise,  and  threw  the 
cushion  back  into  its  place.  "She  has  finished 
her  dinner,  and  she'll  be  after  me  in  a  minute. 
Excuse  me,  sir,  I  must  get  on  with  my  business." 

But  a  new  fire  had  kindled  in  the  Englishman's 
eye ;  he  touched  the  postilion  on  the  shoulder. 

"Many  a  true  word  is  spoken  in  jest,"  said 
he.  "This  exchange,  friend,  that  would  please 
us  both  so  much,  what  is  there  to  hinder  its 
being  effected,  say,  for  a  stage  or  two  ?  What  if 
the  milord  drove  your  horses,  while  you  caressed 
your  Katie  ?  " 

"  Thunder  and  fire-blasts !  Are  you  mad, 
milord?" 

The  fellow's  eyes  goggled,  and  his  jaw  dropped. 

"  I  think  I  could  put  on  your  clothes,"  pursued 
the  Duke,  unmoved.  "And  I  hope  I  can  guide 
a  horse  along  a  highroad  as  well  as  you  or  any 
other  man.  I  believe,  too,  that  I  could  thump 
a  cushion  and  kick  a  chaise,  if  that  is  part  of 
the  duty.  Come,  my  man,  it  is  a  good  offer. 
Three  days'  holiday,  and  your  work  done  for 
you.  Two  hundred  florins,  and  the  price  of  your 
clothes,  and  —  Katie's  kisses !  " 


42  Young  April 

The  lover  of  Katie  had  become  quite  pale 
under  his  sunburn.  He  glanced  over  his  shoulder 
cautiously.  Presently  a  slow  grin  overspread  his 
features;  he  jerked  his  thumb  in  the  direction  of 
the  casement,  whistled  a  stave  in  mockery  — 
roulade,  sostenuto,  and  trill  burlesqued.  He  then 
thrust  his  tongue  knowingly  into  his  cheek. 

"  If  that  is  the  way  with  you,"  said  he,  "  why, 
step  into  the  stables  with  me.  We  will  talk 
matters  over ;  the  nags,  poor  dumb  things !  will 
tell  no  tales." 


"  A  winning  wave,  deserving  note, 

In  the  tempestuous  petticoat." 

HERRICK. 

THE  lady  had  ordered  her  unwilling  post-boy  to 
be  ready  for  the  start  at  one  o'clock. 

At  one  o'clock  the  shabby  chaise,  drawn  by  two 
fresh  horses  and  conducted  by  a  rigid  postilion, 
described  a  fine  curve  round  the  corner  and  was 
brought  to  a  halt  before  the  main  entrance.  The 
horses  with  pricked  ears  stood  facing  the  gateway, 
sniffing  the  air  of  their  road.  The  driver's  eyes 
were  fixed  in  the  same  direction. 

If  any  of  the  casual  spectators  that  now  began 
to  straggle  into  the  yard  had  thought  it  worth 
while  to  examine  closely  what  manner  of  man  it 
was  that  sat  in  the  postilion's  great  boots ;  if  any- 
one had  had  the  curiosity  to  raise  the  heavy  leather 
hat,  or  even  push  aside  the  regulation  white  tow 
plaits  that  hung  therefrom  over  either  cheek, 
breast-deep,  why,  then  the  idle,  everyday  aspect  of 
the  scene  might  have  been  suddenly  and  most 
piquantly  enlivened. 

43 


44  Young  April 

But  although  one  or  two  of  the  stablemen  could 
have  been  seen  to  exchange  knowing  and  humor, 
ous  looks  behind  the  postilion's  back  —  an  exceed- 
ingly conscious  back  under  its  green  jacket  — 
although  from  the  grating  of  the  pantry-window 
two  cook-maids  and  a  waiter,  and  also  a  sunburnt, 
equine-looking  man,  in  singularly  ill-fitting  clothes, 
were  convulsed  with  a  smothered  merriment  evi- 
dently connected  with  the  ancient  chaise  and  its 
yellow-breeched  driver,  no  one  so  much  as  ad- 
dressed the  latter  as  the  hand  of  the  stable  clock 
jerked  its  way  to  the  quarter. 

Seated  at  a  table  by  the  open  casement,  and 
occasionally  casting  a  melancholy  distracted  glance 
into  the  courtyard  below,  was  a  middle-aged  gentle- 
man of  reverend  appearance,  with  a  pen  poised  in 
an  inert  hand. 

"  Inexpressible,  your  Grace,  is  the  sorrow  into 
which  the  melancholy  tidings  received  this  morn- 
ing have  plunged  me  and  my  beloved  charge." 
Thus  had  the  pen  written  on  the  fair  page,  and 
inexpressible  Mr.  Smiley's  feelings  seemed  to  be, 
for  he  could  proceed  no  further,  but  remained 
absorbed  in  cogitation  of  a  painful,  yet  absolutely 
personal  description. 

"I  shall  have  to  employ  ruse,  I  fear,"  thought 
he.  "  Perhaps  to-night,  when  he  sleeps." 


Young  April  45 

His  wandering  eye  swept  over  the  post-boy's 
figure  ever  and  anon,  innocently.  But  so  evil  a 
thing  is  it  to  carry  an  uneasy  conscience  that  this 
same  post-boy,  aware  of  the  black-clothed  scribe  at 
the  window,  felt  as  if  two  red-hot  gimlets  were 
boring  through  the  green  jacket  to  his  naked  flesh. 
And  in  his  breast-pocket  the  pocket-book  (which 
was  sizable  enough  to  cause  a  certain  strain  on  the 
breast-buttons)  seemed  to  swell  and  swell  to  such 
an  abnormal  size  that  he  could  hardly  draw  a 
breath. 

The  postilion,  indeed,  was  not  in  a  state  of 
placidity.  Besides  the  causes  for  disquietude 
which  were  acting  on  his  sensitive  epidermis,  his 
strained  ears  provided  him  with  a  fresh  subject  for 
alarm.  Ever  since  he  had  halted  before  the  steps 
on  the  stroke  of  the  hour,  a  singular  clamour,  the 
noise  of  many  voices  raised  in  discussion,  had  not 
ceased  within  the  house.  Now  it  seemed  to  him 
that  these  rumours  proceeded  from  the  quarter 
whence  that  stave  of  song  had  floated  out  to 
ravish  him  a  short  time  ago.  And,  as  he  thought 
further  to  recognize  above  the  rest  the  same  ac- 
cents that  had  rated  his  predecessor  in  the  saddle, 
if  ever  a  young  man  may  have  been  truly  described 
as  "  sitting  upon  thorns,"  that  young  man  was  the 
Duke  of  Rochester  turned  post-boy. 


46  Young  April 

At  last  the  voices  in  conflict  rose  to  highest 
pitch.  Then  there  was  silence,  emphasized  by  the 
slam  of  a  door.  The  postilion  gripped  his  knees. 
Along  the  inner  passage  leading  to  the  vestibule  a 
feminine  whirlwind  approached  with  ever-gather- 
ing force. 

"  Oh,  Lord ! "  thought  he,  "  it  is  all  up  with 
me!" 

Instinctively  he  rounded  his  back;  but  the 
storm  was  not  directed  against  him. 

Magnificent,  overwhelming,  with  folds  of  silk 
blown  out,  it  seemed,  by  the  very  breath  of  her 
wrath,  the  lady,  clutching  a  bandbox  and  the  bird- 
cage in  one  hand,  sundry  shawls  and  packages  in 
the  other,  sailed  out  of  the  house,  followed  by  the 
landlord,  burdened  on  his  side  with  rugs  and 
parcels.  Her  voice,  rising  and  falling  in  tumult- 
uous cadence,  proceeded  with  every  shade  of 
feeling,  and  with  no  more  break  than  was  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  the  drawing  of  breath,  to 
narrate  a  moving  tale  of  indignation. 

"It  is  just  as  I  told  you,  Mr.  Host  —  the  un- 
grateful slut!  She  owes  everything  to  me.  She 
was  starving,  literally  starving,  when  I  took  her 
in.  And  ignorant!  I  had  to  teach  her  even  to 
twist  a  ringlet.  And  such  a  place  as  she  had  of 
it !  The  wages  I  gave  her !  You  saw  that  green 


Young  April  47 

silk  she  wears  ?  That  was  mine  —  as  good  as  new. 
She  got  them  all.  Not  to  speak  of  the  presents 
and  the  tips.  You  may  imagine,  Mr.  Landlord,  all 
the  young  men  and  the  old  men,  too,  that  will 
make  up  to  me ;  they  tip  her,  of  course  —  not  to 
speak  of  the  kisses.  Well,  sir,  the  minx  is  not 
satisfied.  I  knew  she  and  Joseph  were  carrying 
on.  I  could  not  but  see  it.  Only  last  night,  as 
we  drove  along  in  the  moonlight,  I  could  heat 
them  kissing  in  the  rumble  —  not  that  I  mind  a 
kiss  in  moderation,  but  there  is  reason  in  roasting 
of  eggs.  And  at  dawn,  when  I  looked  out  to  tell 
Araminta  (I  call  her  Araminta)  to  give  me  my 
other  scent  bottle,  what  do  I  see?  —  she  is  comb- 
ing that  rascal's  hair  with  my  comb  —  my  comb! 
After  that,  said  I  to  myself,  there  is  nothing  but 
marriage.  My  gracious !  one  must  have  some  pro- 
priety in  one's  establishment.  You  noticed  Joseph, 
Mr.  Landlord?  There  is  an  ugly  devil,  if  you 
like  !  Well,  it  was  chiefly  for  that  I  hired  him  — 
and  because  he  could  make  such  a  good  salad. 
But,  after  all,  if  it  is  her  taste,  thought  I,  all  tastes 
are  respectable.  So  I  just  called  them  up  after 
dinner,  and  said  I,  '  I  have  seen  your  pranks,  and 
it  has  just  come  to  this :  you  will  have  to  be  mar- 
ried, my  good  friends.  I  will  start  you  in  busi- 
ness,' said  I.  That  minx  comes  forward  as  brazen 


48  Young  April 

as  you  please.  '  Madame  mistakes,'  says  she ; 
'I  should  never  dream  of  marrying  Joseph.' 
'Madame  mistakes,  indeed!'  cried  I;  'then, 
what  do  such  goings-on  mean?'  'Oh,  nothing 
at  all,'  says  she,  'nothing  at  all,  madame,  and 
Joseph  will  tell  you  himself  that  he  has  already  a 
wife  and  six  children.'  A  married  man,  no  less! 
and  six  —  oh,  well,  I  gave  it  to  her  and  to  him  too. 
And  when  I  am  hot,  Mr.  Landlord,  things  are 
pretty  lively,  I  assure  you.  'Who  would  have 
thought  madame  so  particular?'  says  Miss  Ara- 
minta.  Look  here,  now,  if  you  had  heard  her  you 
would  not  have  believed  your  ears.  Of  course, 
there  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  give  her  a 
good  smack  in  the  face,  pay  them  their  wages,  and 
pack  —  out  with  you !  Oh  !  I  am  well  rid  of  such 
rubbish !  But  here  I  am,  all  flustered  and  all  of  a 
perspiration,  and  —  my  God !  my  God !  it  is  past 
the  quarter  already.  I  say,  my  good  man,  open 
the  door.  Eh,  what?  What  is  the  matter  now? 
Your  bill!  Did  I  forget  the  bill?  One  cannot 
think  of  everything,  you  know.  Here,  take  the 
box,  take  the  bird.  Jemminy!  that  is  my  best 
hat ;  be  careful,  will  you  !  Where  is  this  blessed 
bill  ?  Oh !  oh  !  oh  I  Mr.  Landlord,  have  you  no 
conscience  ?  What  is  there  about  a  poor  girl  like 
me,  who  has  to  work  for  her  living,  that  you  all 


Young  April  49 

conspire  to  squeeze  her  as  dry  as  a  lemon  ?  Well, 
there,  bother  the  change !  Give  Araminta  her 
supper  out  of  it,  though  she  does  not  deserve  it. 
Eh,  postilion,  you  will  have  to  go  at  a  round  pace 
this  time,  I  can  tell  you !  I  hope  you  have  had  a 
good  dinner.  Now,  look  at  that  sulky  brute ;  not 
a  word  out  of  him !  There  is  another  of  them. 
He  is  in  a  temper,  if  you  please,  because  I  expect 
to  be  driven.  Next  time  I  hire  a  post-boy  it  will 
be  to  sit  on  my  sofa.  Oh!  la!  la!  Good-bye, 
Mr.  Landlord." 

The  ancient  springs  of  the  chaise  creaked  as  she 
flung  her  vigorous  young  body  on  the  cushions 
within.  The  postilion  tried  to  crack  his  stumpy 
whip,  but  with  faint  success,  and  dug  his  spurs 
into  his  horse.  Lumberingly  and  cautiously  they 
rumbled  out  through  the  archway,  and  the  sun- 
burnt man,  with  the  inexactly  fitting  clothes, 
became  doubled  up  with  inextinguishable  laughter 
as  he  watched  their  exit  from  behind  the  bars  of 
the  pantry  window. 

***** 

The  attention  of  Mr.  Smiley,  who  was  seated  in 
his  bedroom  looking  out  into  the  yard,  had  per- 
force been  attracted  by  the  noisy  twittering  with 
which  the  beautiful  travelling  bird  had  filled  the 
air  before  taking  wing.  He  looked  forth  upon 


5O  Young  April 

her  with  a  discriminating  and  censorious  eye. 
Such  were  the  dangers  to  which  pure  young 
souls  were  exposed  upon  their  travels  abroad, 
against  which  they  required  the  protecting  wings 
of  some  such  guardian  angel  as  himself. 

"It  is  well,"  thought  Mr.  Smiley,  —  "it  is  very 
well  that  this  female  is  departing,  and  fortunate 
indeed  that  Edward,  in  his  present  wanton  mood, 
should  not  be  brought  into  such  pernicious  prox- 
imity. There  is  a  Providence  watching  over  us," 
said  the  clergyman,  and  took  heart  to  dip  his 
pen  in  the  ink  once  more,  to  continue  his  letter 
of  condolence. 


VI 


"  When  proud-pied  April,  dressed  in  all  his  trim, 
Hath  put  a  spirit  of  youth  in  everything." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

GIVEN  a  fair  spring  afternoon,  an  open  country, 
beautiful  and  green,  a  level  road  running  into  the 
unknown,  a  pair  of  decently  stepping  horses,  it 
would  be  strange  indeed  if  the  addition  of  such 
units  did  not  sum  delight  to  a  charioteer  not  more 
advanced  into  the  mysteries  of  life  than  the  spring 
itself,  and  as  full  of  healthy  striving  and  young 
untried  energy.  But  if  you  add  to  these  things 
that  the  same  charioteer  was  whisking  away  with 
him  (whither  he  himself  had  but  the  vaguest  idea) 
an  as  yet  unknown,  but  most  beautiful,  most  sweet- 
voiced  embodiment  of  ripe  young  womanhood ;  if 
you  add  further  that  this  was  the  first  day  of 
liberty  in  a  life  of  twenty  years,  and  that  he  knew 
this  liberty  must  end  in  thirty  days ;  that  the 
jangle  of  bells  rang  out  their  merry  tune  as  he 
trotted  freely  along;  that  now  and  again,  from 
within  the  coach,  a  snatch  of  melody  from  a 

5' 


j2  Young  April 

matchless  throat  broke  upon  his  ear,  you  will 
not  wonder  that  the  Duke's  heart  sang  its  own 
song  —  incoherent,  inarticulate,  but  very  joyous. 

They  passed  little  villages  nestling  among  or- 
chards; cornfields  where  the  young  blades  were 
yet  only  ankle-high,  but  as  wondrous  green  as 
Hope;  hayfields  bounded  by  gnarled  apple-trees 
whose  blushing  promises  were  yet  hidden  in  their 
powdered,  gray-green  caps ;  pear-trees  white  with 
foam  blossom  already ;  and  rare  blackthorns,  the 
silvery  treasure  of  which  was  drifting  from  boughs 
already  clothed.  Each  tree  in  the  copse  was 
showing  the  first  flutter  of  its  coming  summer 
garb  —  some  more,  some  less,  according  to  their 
nature.  Delicately  tinted  from  gray  and  amber 
to  emerald  and  sunset-pink  lay  all  the  woods. 

The  eye  stretched  far  over  the  flat  expanse  to 
amethyst  mountains  on  the  horizon.  It  was  a 
lonely  landscape ;  for  there  were  no  living  herds  or 
flocks  upon  the  meadow  grass,  and  field  flowed 
into  field,  green  corn  into  green  maize,  without 
any  boundary-line  or  a  single  unsightly  barrier. 

The  shadows  grew  longer,  and  the  white  brill- 
iance of  the  sun  began  to  wax  golden  yellow  upon 
the  land.  An  hour  had  gone  by,  and  the  Duke- 
postilion  was  beginning  to  think  that,  sufficient 
time  having  elapsed  to  place  a  convenient  distance 


Young  April  53 

between  him  and  pursuit,  further  acquaintance 
with  the  alluring  fair  one  behind  him  would  not 
be  an  undertaking  attended  by  a  vast  amount  of 
irksome  ceremonial  —  if  he  only  knew  how  to 
begin. 

His  travesty  had  served  him  admirably  thus  far; 
but  he  had  his  doubts  as  to  its  becoming  his  par- 
ticular cast  of  feature,  and  he  felt  himself  encom- 
passed in  a  clinging  atmosphere  of  old  leather, 
strong  tobacco,  and  stable  midden,  which,  no 
doubt,  might  have  a  piquant  pungency  of  its  own, 
but  which  could  scarcely  be  grateful  to  beauty's 
nostrils.  In  perplexity,  and  amid  conflicting 
schemes,  he  trotted  on  another  mile  or  two,  and 
then  beheld  two  roads  diverging,  instead  of  one 
unmistakable  way. 

Now,  he  had  been  duly  primed  by  his  post-boy, 
but  to  what  purpose?  Had  he  been  told,  Take 
the  right,  or  Leave  the  right?  Unconsciously  he 
slackened  pace.  Why  had  he  not  written  out  his 
itinerary  ?  Why  had  he  started  so  cocksure  of  his 
own  capacity  ?  Should  he  risk  it,  and  run  away 
with  his  fair  charge  to  an  indefinite  goal  ?  A  road 
must  lead  somewhere,  and  the  situation  might  pre- 
cipitate a  delightful  climax.  .  .  . 

Under  his  forgetful  hand  the  horses  fell  into  a 
walk. 


54  Young  April 

"  Postilion ! "  came  a  call,  as  true  and  as  loud  as 
a  silver  clarion's.  "  Postilion,  what  are  you  stop- 
ping for  ?  " 

The  postilion  drew  up  altogether,  his  heart 
thumping  rather  quickly  against  the  pocket-book. 

"  Postilion ! "  cried  the  lady  again,  very  per- 
emptorily, for  she  was  evidently  not  a  person  who 
could  lightly  endure  a  check, "  don't  you  hear  me  ?" 

The  postilion  cleared  his  throat  for  action ;  but, 
as  painfully  apprehensive  of  the  first  sound  of  his 
own  ducal  voice  as  a  timid  skipper  might  be  of  the 
effect  of  his  first  round,  he  paused  again. 

"  Come,  I  say,"  cried  the  lady ;  "  I  should  like 
to  know  what  is  the  matter  with  you !  Postilion  ! 
this  is  fairly  maddening.  POSTILION  ! " 

"  Ay,  gracious  lady,"  grunted  the  postilion,  in 
as  deep  a  German  bass  as  he  could  haul  up,  and 
kept  his  head  rigidly  straight. 

There  fell  an  ominous  silence,  during  which  the 
horses  shook  themselves  once  noisily  and  puffed  a 
deep  breath,  and  the  caged  canary  within  the 
coach  ventured  upon  a  surprised  twitter. 

"  Young  man,"  said  the  lady  at  last,  in  grave 
and  altered  accents,  "do  me  the  favour  of  dis- 
mounting and  speaking  to  me." 

After  a  moment's  hesitation,  the  Duke  labori- 
ously brought  one  heavily  booted  leg  round  to 


Young  April  55 

join  the  other,  slid  from  his  saddle,  and  stumped 
slowly  up  to  the  carriage-door.  Suddenly  bashful, 
he  was  unable  to  raise  his  eyes  to  the  lady's  coun- 
tenance ;  but  he  felt  her  searching  gaze  fixed  upon 
him,  and  blushed  —  blushed  so  ingenuously  that 
the  very  roots  of  his  hair  tingled  under  his  mon- 
strous headgear. 

There  ensued  another  long  pause. 

"  Take  off  your  hat,  sir,"  said  the  fair  traveller 
at  last,  "  that  I  may  see  your  face." 

Then  all  the  good  mettle  in  the  lad  rose  to  the 
emergency ;  he  doffed  his  hat  with  that  grace  of 
gesture  inborn  which  not  the  cunningest  master 
of  deportment  could  impart  to  the  most  diligent 
pupil;  he  lifted  his  head  from  the  bow  with  a 
little  proud  toss,  and  his  brown  eyes  looked  boldly 
into  other  brown  eyes  —  the  most  beautiful  deep- 
pupilled  and  black-lashed  that  he  had  ever  seen. 
What  though  they  were  just  now  dilated  with  sur- 
prise, scintillating  with  wrath !  And  so  the  two 
stared  at  each  other. 

All  at  once  there  broke  a  little  quiver  of  mirth 
upon  the  post-boy's  lips  —  a  quiver  that  presently 
spread  into  a  show  of  white  teeth  and  a  dancing 
audacity  of  look.  Hereupon  the  lady's  indigna- 
tion, contained  hitherto  within  a  tumultuously 
pent-up  bosom,  broke  forth  unrestrained. 


56  Young  April 

"  Upon  my  word,  these  are  pretty  goings-on ! " 
cried  she.  "  I  do  not  know  you,  sir.  Pray  who 
may  you  be,  and  how  dare  you  masquerade  as  my 
servant?  What  insolence  is  this?  Why,  I  have 
never  even  seen  you  !  " 

The  words  had  scarcely  rolled  from  her  tongue 
before  she  caught  herself  up  and  fell  to  staring 
afresh,  a  light  of  recognition  dawning  upon  her 
countenance  the  while.  Then  all  at  once  she 
clapped  her  hands  and  cried  in  quite  another 
manner : 

"  Oh,  gracious  heavens !  if  it  be  not  the  boy  in 
the  nightshirt!"  Saying  which,  she  fell,  being 
seemingly  a  creature  of  lightly  varying  moods, 
from  her  height  of  anger  into  a  depth  of  helpless 
laughter. 

For  a  second  Rochester  wavered,  boylike,  be- 
tween offended  dignity  and  the  infection  of  her 
mirth.  But  the  latter,  and  his  own  joyous  sense 
of  emancipation,  carried  the  day.  And  the  silence 
of  woodland  and  wide  meadow  was  thereby  filled 
with  so  strange  a  concert  that  the  horses  uplifted 
their  heads  from  the  tempting  roadside  tuft  they 
were  sniffing  to  look  round  upon  them  astonished. 
The  Duke  leant  his  folded  arms  against  the  open 
window  of  the  chaise  and  filled  the  aperture  with 
his  head  and  shoulders. 


Young  April  57 

"  Yes,  I  saw  you  from  my  window  this  morn- 
ing," he  said  tenderly,  not  sorry  to  give  to  his 
escapade  an  interpretation  which,  if  not  altogether 
the  true  one,  could  not  fail  to  be  flattering  to  his 
hearer. 

"You  are  an  Englishman,"  cried  she  at  the 
sound  of  his  speech,  sitting  up  abruptly  from  her 
weak  collapse  among  the  cushions,  and  wiping  her 
streaming  eyes ;  then  instantly  falling  back  again. 
"  You  do  not  seem,"  said  she,  "  to  have  caught  a 
chill,  anyhow.  Just  take  your  head  a  little 
further  back,  if  you  please.  Come,  now,  all 
Englishmen  are  mad,  or  nearly  so,  I  know ;  never- 
theless, I  should  be  glad  if  you  would  give  me  an 
explanation  of  this  behaviour." 

"  Surely,  surely "  said  the  Duke. 

He  who  drinks  a  strong  wine  fasting  is  like  to 
find  it  swiftly  rob  him  of  his  wits.  The  boy  was 
fairly  intoxicated  with  his  first  pull  at  the  cup  of 
love  and  liberty. 

"  Surely,  surely,"  said  he,  and  he  knew  not  how 
fatuous  and  foolish  was  his  smile,  "  knowing  that 
I  had  seen  you,  you  need  not  have  asked  the 
question." 

The  lady  surveyed  him  an  instant  keenly,  but 
with  perfect  composure.  Then : 

"  My  goodness !  what  a  pace  you  go  at !  "  she 


5  g  Young  April 

remarked;  and  added  reflectively,  "I  wish  all  my 
postilions  drove  as  fast." 

As  she  spoke,  the  horses,  unable  to  resist  the 
appearance  of  a  peculiarly  luscious  growth  of  young 
corn  on  the  wayside,  began  dragging  the  carriage 
with  slow  determination  towards  the  ditch. 

"Oh,  oh!"  cried  she;  "you  must  mind  your 
horses,  Mr.  Postilion." 

And  the  Duke  had,  indeed,  no  alternative  but 
to  spring  to  their  heads  and  conduct  them  back 
to  the  middle  of  the  road.  Then,  having  ingen- 
iously attached  the  reins  to  some  part  of  the 
harness,  he  would  have  returned  to  his  attractive 
station. 

But,  determined,  though  laughing  again,  she 
would  have  none  of  it. 

"  Back  to  your  saddle,  sir,"  said  she ;  "  you  have 
undertaken  a  duty,  see  that  you  fulfil  it.  Off 
with  you  !  we  have  lost  too  much  time  as  it  is." 

In  his  inexperience,  he  was  not  sure  enough  of 
himself  to  disobey  her.  He  made  her  a  bow,  to 
cover  with  elegance  his  inner  discomfiture ;  and, 
forced  thereupon  to  replace  his  hat,  was  acutely 
conscious  of  its  disfiguring  proportions  and  of  the 
comic  aspect  it  must  assume  upon  a  head  so  much 
too  small  for  it. 

A  note  of  good-humoured  laughter  followed  him 


Young  April  59 

to  the  saddle.  He  drove  his  heels  into  the  poor 
brown's  sides  and  applied  his  whip  to  the  off-bay 
with  a  vindictiveness  that  surprised  these  animals 
into  an  unwonted  start,  and  sent  the  dust  flying 
and  the  old  chaise  bounding  haphazard  along  one 
of  the  unknown  roads. 


VII 

"  Oh,  heavenly  fool,  thy  most  kiss-worthy  face 
Anger  invests  with  such  a  lovely  grace ! " 

SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY. 

THE  injured  post-boy  kept  his  team  jogging 
onwards  at  a  pace  so  unaccustomed,  that  by  the 
time  they  had  reached  a  certain  village  on  the 
height  (which  seemed  to  consist  wholly  of  an  inn, 
a  farmhouse,  and  a  few  cottages)  it  was  evident 
that  they  would  have  to  halt  and  rest  awhile 
before  proceeding  further. 

That  this  was  expected  of  all  travellers,  how- 
ever, was  demonstrated  by  the  assiduity  of  a 
couple  of  stablemen  who  seemed  to  be  on  the  look- 
out. These  ran  out  to  loosen  the  harness  and 
rub  down  the  nags,  casting  the  while  astonished 
glances  at  the  unknown  and  peculiar-looking 
postilion,  who  sat  mute  and  motionless  in  his  place 
until  he  was  literally  forced  to  dismount  by  the 
undoing  of  the  girths. 

"Pray,  my  good  men,"  said  the  travelling  lady, 
popping  out  her  rosy  face,  "how  far  is  it  to  the 
Frontier  Bridge?" 

60 


Young  April  6 1 

"  Two  leagues  and  a  half,"  said  one  of  the 
ostlers.  "  Will  not  the  gracious  lady  descend 
and  refresh  herself  within  till  her  horses  are 
fed?" 

"  I  thank  you,  no,"  said  the  lady.  "  I  am  pro- 
vided with  all  I  require  here  in  the  carriage.  But 
perhaps  my  postilion  "  —  here  a  trill  of  mirth  ran 
in  her  tone  —  "  would  feel  the  better  for  a  drink." 

"  Oh,"  cried  the  ostler,  "  he  shall  have  a  tankard 
of  the  best  that  is  brewed  here  between  this  and 
the  Capital.  Will'st  with  me,  fellow  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  postilion,  in  a  strangled  voice, 
doffed  his  hat  to  mop  his  brow,  and  stood  with  his 
sulky  back  turned  to  the  chaise-window. 

The  stablemen  shrugged  shoulders  of  surprise 
and  disapproval  to  one  another,  gave  each  horse 
its  nosebag,  and  went  about  their  business. 

Then  the  chaise  lady  unpacked  a  box,  spread 
her  lace-edged  napkin,  and  contemplated  cold 
viands,  cakes,  and  fruit  with  no  unfriendly  eye. 
Then  she  put  her  head  out  again. 

"Hola!     Postilion!"  said  she. 

The  postilion  turned. 

"  Will  you  open  this  champagne-bottle  for  me?  " 

She  glanced  at  his  handsome  downcast  visage 
with  an  indulgent,  almost  maternal  smile.  How 
mature  is  the  woman,  how  immature  the  man,  of 


62  Young  April 

twenty  I    What  a  gulf  can  lie  between  the  two 
that  are  yet  at  the  same  point  of  life! 

"Thank  you,"  said  she,  and  took  the  frothing 
bottle  from  his  hand.  "  Come,  sir,  will  you  not 
take  a  seat  within  and  share  a  friendly  glass  ?  To 
be  frank  with  you,  I  rather  love  an  Englishman. 
It  is  not  the  first  time  that  I  have  entertained  a 
guest  of  your  nation,  though  never  in  such  garb, " 
she  said,  and  laughed.  "  But  what  does  that 
matter?  The  coat  never  made  the  man.  Come 


in,  come  in 


Her  tone  was  so  sweet,  her  glance  so  winning, 
that  the  young  man  would  have  been  a  churl 
indeed  had  he  resisted. 

"  Mind  your  boots !  "  said  she,  as  he  clambered 
in  and  her  pearl  silk  stocking  was  grazed  by  the 
unwieldy  leather.  "  Here,  sit  you  opposite.  We 
will  have  to  share  a  plate  (praise  the  Lord,  I  have 
two  forks !)  and  eke  a  glass  —  unless  you  drink 
out  of  the  bottle.  Ha,  ha ! " 

"Drink  first,"  said  he,  in  a  low  voice  which 
sounded  strange  in  his  own  ears,  "  and  then  give 
me  the  glass." 

"Perhaps,"  said  she,  and  nibbled  a  piece  of 
chicken,  "  it  would  not  come  amiss  that  we  should 
know  of  each  other  a  little  more.  Behold  me,  by 
name  Eva  Visconti.  (You  may  have  heard  of  her. 


Young  April  63 

No  ?  And  they  tell  me  I  am  famous  !)  For  my 
intimate  friends,  Eva  Beau-Sourire.  By  profes- 
sion, then,  singer.  Just  now  upon  my  way  from 
Milan  to  the  Capital,  where  I  have  accepted  a 
season's  engagement  as  Prima  Donna  at  His  Maj- 
esty's Royal  Opera  House.  I  might  have  signed 
a  far  better  agreement  at  Vienna,  but  I  had  my 
reasons.  By  birth,  sir,  true  Viennese.  By  dispo- 
sition, light-hearted.  By  good  fortune,  free  as  air; 
and,  thank  God,  enough  in  my  private  little  purse 
—  at  least,  for  bread-and-butter.  The  rest,  dis- 
cover for  yourself." 

"  Now,  heavens,  there  is  a  challenge ! "  thought 
the  young  fellow.  And,  like  a  puppy  that  may 
take  umbrage  at  a  waving  straw,  and  yet,  with 
wagging  tail,  will  pat  the  burning  bomb-shell,  he 
was  all  eager  to  meet  her  advances  as  a  very  man 
of  the  world. 

"  I  drink  to  Eva  Visconti,"  .said  he,  and  quaffed 
the  glass  she  held  out  to  him,  intoxicated  most  by 
the  knowledge  that  her  lips  had  already  pressed 
its  brim.  "Let  me  introduce  to  her  in  return 
Edward  Warrender,  seventh  Duke  of  Rochester." 

He  halted,  disconcerted  to  find  that  the  an- 
nouncement of  her  postilion's  splendid  rank  pro- 
duced so  small  an  effect  upon  the  lady  that  she 
merely  raised  her  eyebrows  with  a  look  of  amused 


64  Young  April 

surprise,  which  seemed  hardly  to  amouiit  to  an 
emotion.  A  man  of  more  knowledge  of  the  world 
would  doubtless  have  ascribed  such  an  attitude  to 
artfulness  —  an  artfulness  to  be  expected  in  a  per- 
son of  the  character  which  Eva  Visconti  seemed 
to  take  almost  pleasure  in  proclaiming.  A  sea- 
soned skipper  would  have  known  how  to  steer  his 
craft  in  such  waters.  But  the  wind  was  alto- 
gether taken  out  of  the  inexperienced  Duke's  sails. 
With  a  courageous  attempt  to  keep  his  course,  he, 
nevertheless,  pursued,  in  tones  of  deprecating 
gallantry,  and  in  feeble  imitation  of  her  own  easy 
manner : 

"  By  profession,  nothing  but  her  humble  ser- 
vant ;  by  fortune,  never  favoured  more  than  now ; 
by  disposition " 

He  halted,  for  his  eloquence  failed  him,  but  he 
looked  unutterable  things. 

"How  now?"  cried  the  lady.  "Will  nothing 
less  than  a  dukedom  serve  you  ?  "  And  then  her 
eye  grew  pensive  as  it  swept  over  his  delicate, 
clear-cut  face,  and  fell  upon  the  notable  refine- 
ment of  his  hands.  "  Maybe,"  she  said,  —  "maybe. 
I  do  not  doubt  your  word.  Yet  do  I  know  one  of 
your  land  who  calls  himself  but  a  simple  gentle- 
man, and  seems  as  content  with  the  title  as  if  he 
had  been  born  an  emperor." 


Young  April  65 

She  sighed,  and  gazed  out  across  him  through 
the  window.  There  was  a  minute's  pause. 

"But  I,"  said  he  again,  "think  little  of  any 
title  just  now,  save  that  of  servant  to  you." 

At  this  he  ventured  to  edge  a  little  nearer,  and 
so  doing,  upset  the  chicken  plate. 

"  La  ! "  she  cried,  rating  him ;  "  this  is  what 
comes  of  bad  manners.  Both  the  good  wings  of 
the  chicken!  Throw  them  out  to  the  yard-dog. 
Oh,  take  care  of  my  Saxe  plate  ! " 

With  this  he  dived;  she  dived,  too,  and  the 
young  heads  touched.  Now  the  fork  eluded  them, 
and  now  the  spoon.  The  Duke's  fingers  now 
came  upon  the  satin  hand,  and  now,  for  a  second, 
grasped  the  swelling  arch  of  a  silk-clad  foot. 

So  engaged  were  they  that  the  sound  of  a  horse- 
man cantering  with  splendid  dash  up  to  the  inn- 
door  fell  unheeded,  or  not  at  all,  upon  their  ears. 
Neither  were  they  aware  that  the  cavalier,  catch- 
ing sight  of  the  chaise,  had  leaped  from  the  saddle, 
and,  having  approached  hurriedly,  now  stood  by 
with  folded  arms,  gazing  in  upon  them  as  if 
transfixed. 

With  little  screams,  the  prima  donna  still  sought 
her  belongings.  If  the  Duke  impeded  rather  than 
aided  her  efforts,  who  shall  blame  him?  But  every- 
one knows  that  to  stoop  after  such  a  fashion  is 


66  Young  April 

bound  to  bring  the  blood  to  the  head,  and  once  a 
man  of  twenty  gets  the  blood  to  his  head  he  is 
apt  to  do  singular  things.  For  the  third  time  Eva 
Visconti's  curls  swept  the  Englishman's  cheek. 

"  I  have  got  the  spoon ! "  she  cried ;  and  raised 
an  innocently  triumphant  face. 

"  Oh,"  said  the  Duke,  "  how  beautiful  you  are ! " 

He  slipped  his  arm  round  her  waist,  and  planted 
a  kiss  straight  upon  her  lips. 

The  lady  wasted  no  energy  upon  screams  or  pro- 
testation, but  her  open  palm  descended  upon  the 
boy's  cheek  with  the  report  of  a  pistol. 

His  brain  reeled  and  he  saw  a  thousand  sparks. 
With  a  fleeting,  ruthful  recollection  of  the  stable- 
man and  the  Dorcas  by  the  pump,  "Is  this  the 
consecrated  usage  ? "  thought  he,  yet  felt  no  im- 
pulse to  merriment. 

But  space  for  coherent  reasoning  was  not 
granted  him.  The  cavalier,  who  had  watched 
the  proceedings  of  the  pair  with  a  deadly  sneer 
on  his  lips,  now,  as  if  suddenly  galvanized  into 
life  by  the  sound  of  Eva's  unsparing  buffet,  shot 
out  an  unsuspected  arm,  seized  the  delinquent 
postilion  by  the  collar,  scooped  him  from  the 
chaise  like  an  oyster  from  its  shell,  held  him  up- 
right, shook  him  as  a  terrier  might  a  rat,  and 
finally  spurned  him  into  space  with  a  kick,  in- 


Voting  April  67 

dieted  in  a  masterly  fashion  in  the  very  centre 
of  the  yellow  breeches. 

With  india-rubber  buoyancy,  the  Duke  of  Roches- 
ter rebounded  from  the  cobble-stones,  squared  his 
slim  arms  and  leaped  furiously  at  his  antagonist, 
only  to  be  met  by  a  blow  on  the  nose  which,  un- 
compromisingly delivered,  sent  him  down  again, 
this  time  in  a  sitting  posture,  with  the  blood 
trickling  from  his  ducal  nostrils. 

The  songster's  screams  rang  into  the  air : 

"My  God,  you  will  kill  the  child! " 

The  officer  —  for  such  a  smart  light  blue  and 
silver  undress  uniform  and  a  trailing  sword  unmis- 
takably proclaimed  him  —  leant  an  elbow  on  the 
open  door  of  the  chaise,  and  turned  an  irate, 
handsome  countenance  and  fiery  blue  eyes  upon 
its  occupant. 

"  So,  Eva !  "  he  began,  in  cutting  tones. 

But  she  bore  him  down  by  an  overpowering 
flood  of  reproach. 

"  Well,  and  so,  and  so,  and  what  is  that  to  you  ? 
And  who  gave  you  leave  to  meddle  ?  What  con- 
cern is  it  of  yours  whether  anyone  kisses  me  ?  I 
had  smacked  his  face  —  was  that  not  enough? 
Just  look !  My  Saxe  plate  broken ;  the  cham- 
pagne in  the  lap  of  my  new  gray  silk ;  and  the 
skirt,  too,  torn  from  one  end  to  another  I  God 


68  Young  April 

knows  how  my  poor  voice  will  be  after  the  fright 
and  the  screaming  I  Are  you  not  ashamed  of 
yourself?  If  you  have  injured  that  boy,  Neu- 
berg,  I  will  never  speak  to  you  again  as  long  as 
I  live." 

She  craned  her  head  forward  to  look  out  upon 
her  unfortunate  admirer;  but,  by  a  rapid  move- 
ment, the  officer  closed  the  door,  and  blocked  up 
the  window. 

"  And  are  you  not  ashamed  ?  "  began  he,  leaning 
in,  and  speaking  in  the  harshest,  most  grating  tone 
of  anger.  "  What !  repel  me,  and  hobnob  with 
a  postilion?  Hell  and  damnation,  Eva " 

"  Hell  and  damnation  yourself,  sir !  Take  care, 
I  have  got  the  fellow  to  that  smack  tingling  in  my 
hand  for  you.  .  .  .  Fie,  Neuberg !  your  voice  is 
as  ugly  as  a  raven's !  Postilion  indeed  ;  shall  a 
lady  not  share  a  glass  of  champagne  with  her 
postilion  if  she  is  so  minded  —  above  all,  if  that 
postilion  happen  to  be  a  gentleman  ?  " 

"A  gentleman?"  echoed  he  whom  she  had 
addressed  as  Neuberg,  the  cloud  of  contempt  and 
fury  in  his  face  giving  way  to  an  expression  of 
the  keenest  jealous  anxiety. 

He  turned  to  look  at  Rochester,  who  had  pain- 
fully risen  to  his  feet,  and,  wiping  the  blood  from 
his  livid  chin  with  a  white  silk  handkerchief,  was 


Young  April  69 

measuring  the  figure  of  his  enemy  with  a  certain 
stillness  of  murderous  intensity. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  continued  Eva  Visconti  vindictively, 
"and  as  good  a  gentleman  even  as  you,  Count 
Gustaf  von  Neuberg  — you,  who  would  have  the 
monopoly  of  admiring  a  free  woman !  The  young 
man  is  the  Duke  of  Rochester." 

Count  Neuberg  rolled  his  blue  eye  rapidly  from 
the  speaker's  face  to  the  postilion's.  Clouds  of 
conflicting  emotions  chased  each  other  across  his 
countenance,  which  was  evidently  as  open  to  re- 
flect the  workings  of  his  mind  as  the  bosom  of  a 
lake  to  the  moods  of  the  sky.  Then  he  came  for- 
ward a  step,  placed  his  left  hand  on  the  hilt  of  his 
sword,  closed  his  heels,  and,  saluting  in  ceremoni- 
ous military  style,  addressed  the  Englishman,  who 
clenched  his  hands  as  he  approached. 

"  Sir,"  he  said,  in  a  grave  voice,  hardly  recogniz- 
able as  proceeding  from  the  lips  that  had  up  to 
now  emitted  such  harsh  sounds,  —  "  sir,  my  mis- 
take was,  you  must  admit,  excusable.  Neverthe- 
less, I  am  ready  to  offer  for  it  all  the  reparation 
one  gentleman  can  make  to  another.  I  gather 
that  we  are  proceeding  in  the  same  direction. 
You  will  find  me  at  your  disposal  at  any  place,  at 
any  hour,  with  any  weapon  you  wish  to  appoint." 

The  Duke's  balled  hands  fell  open. 


7o  Young  April 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  he  said,  with  simple  dignity ; 
"  the  sooner  the  better,  if  you  please." 

"  Listen  to  them  now  I "  cried  the  poor  lady  in 
the  chaise.  "  Confound  you,  Neuberg !  what  has 
brought  you  here  at  all  ?  " 

"Ah,  my  dear  Eva,"  said  the  man  sadly,  "I 
came  to  the  frontier  to  meet  you  and  escort  you 
to  the  Capital,  but  when  I  got  there  my  impatient 
heart  pushed  me  on  still  further.  But  woe  betide 
him  who  comes  upon  a  woman  unannounced !  "  he 
added,  with  bitterness. 

"What  tomfoolery  this  is!"  cried  the  prima 
donna,  with  an  impatient  sigh. 

But  the  Duke,  eagerly  examining  his  future 
opponent  in  this  his  first  affair  of  honour,  could 
not  but  be  struck  with  the  accents  of  a  passion 
beside  which  his  own  tentative  experience  in  love 
seemed  but  the  flicker  of  a  match  to  a  furnace  fire. 

Then  the  three  actors  in  this  little  comedy  be- 
came aware  of  a  wide  circle  of  absorbed  and 
vaguely  grinning  spectators. 

"Is  it  your  pleasure,  madame,  that  we  should 
proceed  ?  "  said  the  postilion  to  the  lady. 

She  glanced  at  him  pensively.  The  boy  seemed 
suddenly  to  have  grown  into  a  man.  Then,  sigh- 
ing with  some  weariness  of  temper,  she  said : 

"  Yes,  yes,  by  all  means,  let  us  get  on." 


Yotmg  April  fi 

Bowing,  the  postilion  thereupon  betook  himself 
gravely  to  the  pump,  where  he  laved  his  face. 

The  horses,  at  his  peremptory  gesture,  having 
been  rebuckled  to  their  station,  he  tossed  a  few 
silver  coins  to  the  stablemen,  and  mounted  once 
more  into  his  saddle,  with  the  same  gravity  and 
sedateness. 

"Really,  these  English,"  thought  the  lady  to 
herself  as  she  watched  his  movements,  "there  is 
something  about  them  that " 

It  was  a  very  gallant  figure  that  rode  in  blue 
and  silver  by  her  side  in  rigidly  courteous,  high- 
horse  style,  sitting  on  a  full-blood  dashing  mare 
that  fretted  and  fumed  in  vain  against  the  re- 
stricted pace.  But  Eva  Visconti  cast  scarce  a 
glance  upon  him.  She  kept  her  eyes  fixed  upon 
some  secret  thought  of  her  own,  which  had  its 
sweetness,  yet  also  its  melancholy. 


VIII 

"  Alia  Stoccata  carries  it  away !  " 

SHAKESPEARE. 

THE  little  border  town  was  gilded  by  the  setting 
sun  as  the  travellers,  throwing  giant  shadows  be- 
fore them,  rode  down  the  hill  towards  its  ancient 
and  decaying  walls. 

Ever  stiffer  and  ever  sorer  had  grown  every 
joint  and  muscle  of  the  postilion  as  on  he  jogged 
monotonously  upon  his  hard-trotting  mount.  But 
the  stiffness  of  his  injured  pride,  the  soreness  of 
his  swelling  heart,  surpassed  all  possible  physical 
discomfort.  Two  hours'  uninterrupted  meditation 
on  the  indignities  to  which  he  had  been  subjected 
had  not  diminished  his  appreciation  of  their  mag- 
nitude. Struck,  kicked  —  kicked  by  a  miserable 
foreigner  —  he,  the  Duke  of  Rochester  !  Was  any 
weapon  murderous  enough  to  avenge,  any  blood 
red  enough  to  wash  out,  such  degradation  ? 

His  sense  of  mortal  injury  gave  him  so  singular 
an  air  of  dignity  and  of  exclusiveness,  and  seemed 
to  set  him  so  much  apart  from  the  frivolity  of  life, 

72 


Young  April  73 

that  Eva  Visconti,  as  she  descended  at  the  inn- 
door,  ventured  upon  never  a  word  of  that  media- 
tion speech  (to  be  followed  by  the  sprightly 
supper-party)  she  had  been  cheerfully  planning 
for  the  last  league  of  the  way.  He  bowed  to  her 
with  coldness  as  she  hesitatingly  regarded  him. 
Inclining  her  own  head  in  silence,  she  flitted  across 
the  threshold,  and  with  an  unwonted  sinking  of 
her  spirits,  left  the  two  young  men  outside. 

When  the  last  undulations  of  gray  silk  had 
disappeared  from  sight,  the  Englishman  went 
steadily  up  to  the  officer  and,  looking  into  his 
eyes,  said: 

"  You  gave  me,  sir,  the  choice  of  time  and  place 
and  weapons.  I  say :  Now ;  here ;  and  with  the 
first  weapons  that  can  be  mustered." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  officer,  with  a  most  easy  polite- 
ness, "I  am  immediately  and  entirely  at  your 
disposal.  But  allow  me  to  observe  that  you  seem 
a  stranger  here,  and  that  I  myself  know  of  no 
gentleman  in  this  little  town  who  could  act  as 
my  second.  Now,  to-morrow  we  shall  be  able 
to  reach  the  Capital,  and " 

"  Not  so ! "  said  Rochester,  his  ill-contained 
fury  breaking  out  fiercely.  "  And  do  you  think, 
sir,  that  I  am  going  to  let  a  night  pass  upon  the 
treatment  I  have  suffered  at  your  hands  ?  I  ask 


74  Young  April 

for  no  seconds;  get  whom  you  will  here  to  see 
fair  play  for  yourself." 

Count  Neuberg  paused  an  instant  to  look  at  the 
slight  boyish  figure,  the  quivering  young  face, 
and  to  admire  the  spirit  and  high-breeding  which 
could  obliterate  absolutely  all  absurdity  of  situa- 
tion and  attire. 

He  could  have  felt  it  in  him  to  wring  the  mock 
postilion's  hand  in  good  fellowship,  were  it  not 
that  the  very  points  which  excited  his  admiration 
were  of  the  kind  most  likely  to  prick  his  original 
jealousy  into  greater  activity. 

His  face  grew  dark  again. 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  wish,"  he  said.  "  It  will  go 
hard  if  we  do  not  find  a  couple  of  honest  men  to 
bear  witness  to  the  decorous  conduct  of  our  meet- 
ing. There  is  a  secluded  garden  here  behind  the 
inn  —  better  still,  there  is  a  splendid  room  in  the 
house  itself,  with  a  fair  boarded  floor  —  the  wine- 
room,  the  very  thing !  This  must  Master  Host 
lend  us,  and  illuminate  to  his  best  resources,  if  we 
are  to  see  to  cut  each  other's  throats.  Yes,  since, 
according  to  your  wish,  we  are  to  fight  to-night, 
we  must  even  do  so  indoors  ;  it  will  soon  be  dark. 
That  is  logic,  as  my  friend  Michael  Spencer 
would  say,"  he  added,  with  a  sudden  smile,  and 
(to  the  Duke's  great  astonishment)  in  very  pre- 
cise English. 


Young  April  75 

It  was  so  sweet  a  smile,  and  lit  up  so  pleasantly 
a  gallant  manly  countenance,  that,  with  all  the 
tiger  in  him  athirst  for  blood,  Rochester  could  not 
but  feel  its  charm. 

"  The  boarded  floor,  by  all  means,"  said  the 
Duke,  also  in  English,  from  the  edge  of  his 
haughty  lip,  and  made  an  impatient  movement 
towards  the  house. 

"  Stay,  stay,"  said  Neuberg.  "  Since  we  are  to 
be  our  own  seconds,  my  lord,  give  me  your  pa- 
tience yet  a  little  further.  Say  that  I  find  two 
fellows  to  act  as  witnesses,  that  I  secure  the  lighted 
room  and  the  requisite  solitude  for  our  purpose, 
we  have  yet  the  weapons  to  think  of.  The  choice 
lies  with  you.  Pistols  ? "  said  he,  musing,  and 
passed  a  reflective  hand  over  his  chin.  "Pistols 
doubtless  you,  as  an  Englishman,  would  prefer; 
but  how  get  a  decent  pair  here?  If  you  have 
your  own  with  you,  it  is  all  right.  The  pistol-case 
is  an  item  which  an  English  traveller,  as  a  rule, 
never  forgets  ;  yet  in  your  present  disguise " 

"  I  have  none  with  me,"  answered  the  other 
briefly.  "  But  you,  sir,  have  your  sword :  can  we 
not  obtain  another  in  the  town?  As  for  me,  I 
would  prefer  swords,"  went  on  Rochester,  his 
right  hand  twitching  as  he  spoke.  Indeed,  it 
seemed  to  him  that  a  snap  at  a  pistol,  be  it  ever 


76  Young  April 

so  deadly,  would  be  but  poor  satisfaction  to  his 
injured  pride.  But  hand  against  hand,  blow  for 
blow  —  have  at  him !  —  that  would  be  something  ! 

"  If  you  prefer  swords,"  cried  Neuberg  heartily, 
"  so  be  it.  It  will  be  quieter  work,  no  doubt,  and 
we  must  not  forget  the  lady.  I  have  mine,  as  you 
say.  We  must  get  another  by  hook  or  by  crook. 
I  shall  naturally  take  the  weapon  I  do  not  know, 
to  balance  matters." 

"  Will  you,  then,"  said  the  Englishman,  «*  see  to 
all  this?  May  I  leave  everything  to  you ?  Being 
a  foreigner  here,  I  could  not  carry  things  through 
as  you  could." 

"I  was  about  to  propose  it,  Duke,"  said  the 
officer. 

They  walked  together  to  the  inn. 

"You  will  find  me  in  my  bedroom,"  said  the 
young  man,  "  awaiting  your  summons." 

The  other  saluted,  and  they  parted. 

Some  rumour  must  have  already  reached  the 
landlord's  ears  as  to  the  mystery  surrounding  a 
postilion  who  spoke  the  tongue  of  the  land 
in  such  strange  accents,  who  dismounted  and 
marched  away  with  never  a  glance  at  his  coach 
or  his  horses;  for  he  hardly  showed  surprise 
when  this  eccentric  charioteer  demanded  to  be 
given  possession  of  the  best  bedroom  free  in  the 


Young  April  77 

house,  a  warm  bath,  and  a  bottle  of  the  choicest 

vintage. 

***** 

It  was  by  a  dapper  soldier  servant  that,  an  hour 
later,  Rochester  was  informed  that  everything  was 
in  readiness.  Although  bodily  refreshed  by  his 
bath,  he  was,  nevertheless,  in  a  mood  of  height- 
ened irritability,  having  experienced  considerable 
disgust  at  being  forced  to  reclothe  his  nether 
limbs  in  those  infernal  yellow  breeches,  and  to 
shuffle  about  with  a  pair  of  the  landlord's  slippers 
upon  his  slender  feet.  The  impossible  top-boots 
lay  dejectedly,  capsized  one  upon  the  other,  in 
the  corner. 

"His  honour  the  Captain  lets  it  be  known," 
said  the  soldier,  "that  he  awaits  the  gentleman 
in  the  saloon." 

Rochester  leaped  up,  his  tired  face  flushing. 
He  shuffled  forth  in  rear  of  the  messenger,  who 
tramped  with  measured  clink  of  spur  down  the 
passages,  and  was  introduced  into  a  brilliantly 
illuminated,  bare  apartment,  the  door  of  which 
was  closed  and  bolted  immediately  upon  his 
entrance. 

Count  Neuberg,  stripped  to  the  waist,  stood 
displaying  under  the  candle-light  the  reflection 
of  a  miraculously  white  skin,  while  he  discussed 


78  Young  April 

with  a  precise,  rosy-faced,  fair-haired  individual 
in  spectacles  the  merits  of  two  bare  swords  that 
lay  on  the  table  before  them. 

The  strange  gentleman  was  in  the  act  of  utter- 
ing a  warm  panegyric  upon  the  virtues  of  their 
particular  kind  of  grip,  when  the  sound  of  the 
soldier's  boots,  and  of  the  Duke's  shuffling  slippers, 
made  itself  heard.  The  Captain  wheeled  round. 

"  Ah ! "  said  he  cordially,  in  the  tone  of  a  host 
welcoming  his  guest,  "  there  you  are.  Let  me  in- 
troduce Dr.  Theophilus  Lehmann,  who  has  kindly 
consented  to  act  as  your  second,  my  lord,  and  also 
as  our  doctor;  and  who  has  furthermore  provided 
us  with  these  handy  instruments,  which  he  assures 
me  (and  I  have  no  doubt  of  it)  are  considered  of 
the  highest  patent.  Is  it  not  fortunate,"  added  he 
gaily,  "  that  I  should  have  discovered  this  learned 
and  gallant  gentleman?  He  is  a  person,  my  dear 
Duke,  of  every  talent  —  able  to  carve  a  man  open 
and  sew  him  up  again  tight  at  the  same  sitting. 
He  has  the  exact  knowledge  of  the  Code  of 
Honour  and  of  the  niceties  of  a  gentleman's 
anatomy.  Herr  Doctor,  I  introduce  you  to  the 
Duke  of  Rochester,  from  England." 

"  Eh,  eh ! "  chuckled  Dr.  Theophilus  Lehmann, 
making  a  circumspect  little  bow;  "much  honoured 
—  much  honoured ! " 


Young  April  79 

The  Duke,  looking  ill-humouredly  round,  met 
the  gaze  of  the  most  benevolent  orbs  it  is  possible 
to  imagine  beaming  upon  him  from  the  circles  of 
immense  silver-rimmed  spectacles. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Count  Neuberg,  "  I  believe 
I  have  actually  omitted  to  introduce  myself: 
Count  Gustaf  von  Neuberg,  Captain  of  the  King's 
Squadron  of  Rider  Guards,  and  Equerry  to  His 
Majesty.  And  there,"  he  went  on  genially,  "is 
my  orderly,  Hans.  He  has  a  good  knowledge  of 
fighting,  public  and  private.  He  will  act  for  me. 
So  now  I  think  matters  have  been  fairly  well  ex- 
patiated. Doctor,  we  are  in  your  hands.  Hans, 
forward,  fellow ! " 

"With  a  pride  that  fairly  threatened  to  burst  the 
frogs  of  his  dolman,  astonished  Hans  saluted  and 
immediately  stepped  forward. 

The  little  Doctor  took  up  the  swords,  compared 
them  with  great  precision,  balanced  them  in  each 
hand,  and  finally  held  one  out  to  Hans  and  pre- 
sented the  other  to  the  Duke. 

The  latter,  with  trembling  fingers,  had  mean- 
while bereft  himself  of  his  shirt,  while  his  sullen 
eye  carefully  scanned  every  detail  of  Count  Neu- 
berg's  appearance  and  behaviour,  lest  he  —  Roch- 
ester—  should  disgrace  himself  by  some  least 
omission  in  this  his  first  affair  of  honour. 


80  Young  April 

As  he  stepped  after  his  second,  the  drag  of  his 
slippers  struck  him  with  its  absurdity  and  its  dis- 
comfort, and  with  a  half-muttered  curse  he  sent 
them  flying  to  the  further  end  of  the  room,  and 
then  stood  gripping  the  floor  with  silk-stockinged 
feet. 

"  Ah !  what  is  that  ? "  said  the  Doctor,  halting 
in  his  elaborate  pacing. 

Neuberg,  with  a  smile,  divested  himself  upon 
the  spot  of  his  Hessians,  and  took  his  ground  with 
a  light  dancing  step,  as  if  he  deemed  the  innova- 
tion an  actual  improvement. 

Dr.  Theophilus  Lehmann  was  as  precise  and 
exact  in  the  placing  of  the  combatants  as  he  might 
be  in  that  of  a  bandage.  At  last,  after  holding 
the  points  of  their  swords  together  for  quite  an 
appreciable  period,  he  stepped  back  with  a  sacra- 
mental "  Go ! " 

The  Duke,  in  the  exasperation  of  the  delay,  felt 
his  young  heart  thump  in  a  perfect  frenzy  of  inter- 
acting passions,  and  was  lost  in  dread  lest  the 
others  should  attribute  to  fear  the  agonized  beat- 
ing which  must  be  visible  under  his  naked  ribs. 

And  there  they  stood,  these  two  admirable 
specimens  of  manhood:  one  in  its  first  exquisite 
youthful  flower,  the  other  in  its  perfect  ripeness ; 
both  handsome  in  their  different  styles,  both  gal- 


Young  April  8 1 

lant,  both  the  hope  of  a  noble  line  —  and  each 
bent  upon  nothing  less  than  destroying,  if  not 
life  itself,  at  least  the  symmetry  of  life  in  the 
other. 

"Go!"  said  the  little  Doctor,  and  retired  a 
pace,  with  voice  and  step  measured  to  the  neat- 
est decorum,  satisfied  that  he  was  conducting 
affairs  as  such  affairs  needed  to  be  conducted. 
What,  therefore,  was  his  surprise  and  horror  to 
see,  on  the  word,  his  principal  leap  upon  the 
antagonist  like  a  wild  beast  let  loose  from  his 
cage ;  to  see  neither  rule  nor  law  of  offence  and 
defence  regulate  his  slashing  onslaught,  but  only 
the  savage  determination  to  cut,  to  wound,  to 
maim,  to  kill.  Before  this  assault  in  the  light 
of  nature  the  scientifically  trained  opponent  had 
no  alternative  but  to  fall  back,  guarding  himself 
as  best  he  might. 

The  poor  medical  second  ran  hither  and  thither, 
clucking  his  dismay.  "  Halt ! "  cried  he,  in  de- 
spair ;  "  halt,  sirs ! "  But  all  in  vain,  and  he 
dared  not  interfere  bodily  where  steel  was  smit- 
ing steel  with  such  ferocious  rapidity. 

Meanwhile  the  orderly,  watching  this  scrim- 
mage and  noting  his  master's  forced  retreat, 
stood  with  a  nervous  grin  stiffened  upon  his 
lips,  and  with  anxiety  in  his  protruding  eye. 


82  Young  April 

Presently  Neuberg's  left  foot  struck  the  limit 
of  his  space,  and  his  endurance  of  his  opponent's 
reckless  fury  was  exhausted.  With  his  back 
against  the  wall,  having  felt  that  a  blind  cut 
he  had  failed  to  parry  himself  had  only  been 
stopped,  just  in  time,  by  the  wainscot  behind  him, 
from  laying  his  head  open,  seeing  the  Duke's 
baffled,  livid  face  within  an  inch  of  his  own, 
the  officer,  who  certainly  did  not  want  to  kill 
but  merely  to  dispose  somehow  of  a  dangerous 
rival,  and  who  had  hitherto  refrained  from 
striking  in  the  midst  of  so  tangled  a  fray,  now 
thought  that  the  moment  had  come. 

A  push  of  his  bare  breast  against  the  bare 
breast  so  close  to  it  hurled  the  boy  back  a 
couple  of  paces ;  then,  mercifully  avoiding  the 
unguarded  face,  he  drew  his  blade  with  one 
swift  stroke  along  the  outstretched  arm. 

"  Halt ! "  screamed  once  more  Dr.  Theophilus 
Lehmann,  now  quite  hoarse. 

"  No ! "  yelled  Rochester,  and  waved  his  sword 
high  in  the  air ;  but  it  instantly  escaped  his  grasp, 
flew  across  the  room,  and  crashed  to  the  ground, 
carrying  a  couple  of  candlesticks  with  it. 

The  defeated  man  whirled  round  upon  himself 
as  if  seeking  his  weapon. 

"  Thunder  and    lightning !  "    cried    Neuberg's 


" '  HALT  ! '  SCREAMED  ONCE  MORE  DOCTOR  THEOPHILUS  LEHMANN  " 


Voting  April  83 

strident  voice.  There  was  the  jangling  clang  of 
another  sword  flung  away,  and  the  Duke,  find- 
ing the  world  grown  suddenly  dark  and  cold, 
felt  himself  caught  up  into  the  warm  arms  of 
his  adversary. 


IX 


"  For  God's  sake  let  me  in ! 

What  shrill-voiced  suppliant  makes  this  eager  cry? 
A  woman  .  .  .  'tis  I. 
Speak  with  me,  pity  me  —  open  the  door ! 
A  beggar  begs  that  never  begged  before." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

AFTER  the  clashing,  the  stamping,  the  shout- 
ing, the  crashing,  the  scuffling,  there  fell  a  won- 
derful stillness  in  the  room. 

The  Duke  lay  in  a  dead  faint,  with  limp  limbs 
supported  on  Neuberg's  knee,  and  beautiful  pal- 
lid head  against  his  shoulder. 

Dr.  Theophilus  Lehmann  (reserving  his  com- 
ments qud  second  for  a  later  period)  was  now 
nothing  but  the  quiet  surgeon,  and,  with  spec- 
tacles firmly  adjusted,  was  selecting  sundry  in- 
struments from  his  case.  Under  his  direction, 
Hans,  who  had  collected  candles  and  had  pro- 
duced a  sponge,  knelt  beside  his  master  and 
grasped  with  both  hands  the  slim  white  arm  of 
the  wounded  man  so  as  to  keep  the  long  lips 
84 


Young  April  85 

of  the  cut  together.  And  the  Duke's  good  red 
blood  was  over  them  all. 

"Na,"  the  Doctor  was  saying,  "a  clean  cut 
with  a  clean  weapon,  that  will  be  of  itself  a 
small  matter.  But  his  lordship  the  Duke  seems 
of  a  nervous  temperament,  naturally  high-strung 
—  just  now  over-strung.  So  we  will  even  do 
the  stitching,  which  is  rather  a  disagreeable  pro- 
cess, before  we  call  him  back  to  consciousness. 
If  it  had  been  you,  now,  my  lord  Count,  I  should 
have  said  the  blood-letting  would  actually  do  you 
good.  Can  you  hold  the  candle  higher  —  just 
so?"  and  he  bent  over  his  work. 

There  now  came,  with  flutter  and  patter,  some- 
one sighing  and  lamenting  along  the  passage. 
There  was  a  pause  outside  the  door,  a  rustling, 
then  a  timid  knock. 

Neuberg  started,  and  spilt  the  candle-grease. 
The  Doctor  glanced  up,  just  once:  his  blue  eye 
was  severe. 

"If  you  please,"  he  said,  "for  a  few  moments 
no  one  must  move." 

"  Oh,  my  God ! "  said  a  weeping  voice  outside, 
"  what  has  happened  ?  Neuberg,  are  you  there  ?  " 

"Yes,  Eva,"  answered  the  officer  in  uncon- 
sciously plaintive  tones. 

"  Ah,  heavens  !  "  cried   Eva.     "  What  a  voice ! 


86  Young  April 

You  are  hurt  —  I  can  hear  it !  Is  it  bad  ?  Is  it 
dangerous?  Ah,  my  God!  why  are  you  all  so 
still?  I  thought  your  noise  would  have  killed 
me,  but  this  silence  is  worse,  far  worse !  Neu- 
berg,  for  pity's  sake,  what  has  happened  ?  My 
lord  Duke  !  my  lord  Duke  !  Merciful  God !  you 
have  not  killed  that  child  ?  " 

The  timid  knock  was  now  replaced  by  the 
battering  of  two  soft  palms  on  the  panel. 

"  Let  me  in  —  I  will  come  in !  "  cried  the  lady. 
"  Let  me  in,  you  there  !  You  are  not  men,  but 
monsters." 

"  Eva,  be  quiet  a  moment,  I  implore  you  !  " 
cried  Neuberg,  still  unable,  however,  with  the 
deathlike  form  in  his  arms,  to  give  his  voice  its 
natural  sound,  and  perhaps  not  unwilling  to 
test  by  this  trial  the  real  state  of  the  lady's 
feelings.  "  Nothing  serious  has  occurred ;  have 
a  moment's  patience,  and  you  will  be  admitted." 

"Ah,  Neuberg,"  sobbed  she,  "you  cannot  put 
me  off  like  this.  Something  dreadful  is  going 
on  behind  that  door.  I  know  it  I  Why  does  that 
poor  child  not  answer?" 

There  was  another  pause,  in  which,  from  the 
scratching  and  rattling  without,  it  was  evident 
that  the  prima  donna  was  endeavouring  to  look 
through  the  keyhole.  This  was  followed  by  a 
wild  scream. 


Young  April  87 

"  Oh,  God  I  I  can  see  you.  Oh,  monsters ! 
assassins !  let  me  in,  or  I  shall  rouse  the  town ! " 

"So,"  said  Dr.  Lehmann  at  length  to  Hans, 
taking  hold  of  the  bandage-roll,  "I  need  trouble 
you  no  further,  my  good  friend.  Better  go  and 
tranquillize  madame  without:  she  seems  a  little 
anxious.  But  keep  her  from  entering.  This  is 
hardly  a  sight  for  a  lady.  If  you  please,  my 
lord  Count,  continue  as  you  are  for  the  moment." 

Hans  cautiously  unbolted  the  door  and  opened 
it  a  couple  of  inches  as  a  preliminary  to  the  pre- 
scribed soothing  parley  with  the  applicant  out- 
side. He  might  as  well  have  attempted  to  keep 
the  flood  out  once  the  sluice-gate  was  ajar.  He 
was  borne  down,  flattened  behind  the  swinging 
door,  by  all  the  strength  of  the  lady's  vigorous 
frame  and  of  her  outraged  emotions.  With  volu- 
minous white  draperies  waving  around  her,  she 
advanced  upon  the  delinquents  like  some  wild 
white  bird  flying  to  attack  the  enemies  of  its 
young. 

"  Miscreants ! "  she  cried,  and  pointed  with  a 
tragic  finger  ;  "  I  knew  it ! " 

At  that  instant  the  Duke  sighed  and  opened 
his  eyes,  very  dark  in  his  white  face. 

"My  dear  madame,"  said  the  Doctor,  "your 
womanly  anxiety  honours  you,  but  there  is  not 


88  Young  April 

the  least,  not  the  very  least,  cause  for  alarm. 
Our  young  friend,  whom  I  have  just  made  quite 
comfortable,  will  be  as  well  as  ever  in  a  few 
days." 

"  My  arm  is  burning  like  hell-fire,"  murmured 
the  Duke  faintly,  and  shifted  himself  in  Neuberg's 
embrace. 

"Drink  this  little  cordial,"  said  the  Doctor, 
stooping  with  a  glass  in  his  hand. 

"I  can  hold  it  better,"  said  Neuberg,  who 
looked  shame-faced,  and  avoided  raising  his  eyes 
towards  the  object  of  his  admiration;  but  there 
was  a  growing  tenderness  in  his  clasp  of  the 
wounded  man. 

Eva  Visconti  surveyed  them  both  for  a  second 
in  silence.  A  smile  relaxed  the  compression  of 
her  lips,  there  was  a  light  in  her  eye  that  can 
best  be  described  as  that  of  the  lust  of  nursing 
—  the  lust  which  God  has  implanted  in  the  heart 
of  woman. 

"  Here ! "  said  she,  and  could  stand  it  no  longer, 
but  whisked  her  draperies  over  the  red  puddles 
on  the  floor,  knelt  down  beside  the  two,  whipped 
the  glass  from  Neuberg's  hand,  and,  inserting  her 
strong  round  arm  at  exactly  the  proper  angle 
under  the  languid  head,  held  the  cordial  to  the 
Duke's  lips. 


Young  April  89 

"  Angel ! "  said  Neuberg,  who  reverently  lifted 
a  wisp  of  her  hair  and  kissed  it. 

"  A  pretty  time  to  choose ! "  said  she,  with  light 
scorn,  over  her  shoulder.  "  Leave  the  boy  to  me, 
and  put  a  shirt  on,  for  goodness'  sake.  As  for 
you,  little  man  —  Doctor,  whatever  you  may  be 
—  had  you  not  better  see  that  the  poor  fellow's 
bed  is  ready  for  him  and  warmed?  He  is  cold 
as  death." 

"  I  perceive  that  madame  will  make  an  admir- 
able nurse,"  said  Theophilus  Lehmann  imperturb- 
ably ;  "  her  suggestions  are  excellent."  He  paused 
to  take  his  patient's  pulse.  "A  little  more  cor- 
dial, if  you  please,  first,  before  we  attempt  to  set 
him  on  his  legs." 

"  Hans,  see  about  the  bed,"  said  Neuberg. 

A  little  while  later  a  remarkable  procession 
might  have  been  seen  by  any  denizen  of  the  inn, 
had  not  the  landlord  thought  it  expedient  to  keep 
curious  inquirers  from  peering  into  what  it  might 
please  a  King's  Equerry  to  conduct  in  rooms 
selected  for  himself  and  his  party.  It  was  advan- 
cing along  the  passage :  Hans,  sedate  and  highly 
drilled,  leading  the  way  with  a  candle  in  each 
hand ;  the  eccentric  postilion,  in  stockinged  feet, 
yellow  breeches,  and  with  a  lady's  mantle  over  his 
shirtless  back,  came  next,  evidently  in  a  poor  way, 


QO  Young  April 

supported  by  the  pink  and  pattern  of  Health- 
Counsellors;  in  the  rear  were  the  sky-blue  and 
silver  officer,  and  a  splendid  lady  in  semi-low 
attire.  The  officer  was  hanging  his  head,  for  the 
lady  was  scolding  him  soundly. 

"You  have  reason  to  be  proud  of  yourself," 
she  was  saying;  "this  is  a  pretty  feat,  to  have 
carved  the  child  who  did  not  know  how  to  defend 
himself.  Oh,  he  knew  how  to  attack,  did  he? 
Little  wonder,  after  your  behaviour  on  the  road ! 
You  were  mad  with  love?  Oh,  of  course,  that 
could  not  fail  —  all  the  crimes  you  men  commit 
are  committed  under  the  name  of  love;  it  is 
enough  to  make  a  poor  woman  dread  the  very 
sound  of  the  word.  You  had  to  give  the  young 
man  satisfaction  ?  Naturally !  And  a  pretty  satis- 
faction —  enough  to  keep  him  in  bed  for  a  week ! 
And,  talking  of  bed,  I  shall  be  thankful  when  I 
have  tucked  up  the  lad." 

"You?"  said  Neuberg,  with  a  deep  note  of 
disapproving  surprise. 

"  Yes,  I  myself,  sir.  Now  look  here,  Neuberg, 
I  am  going  to  nurse  that  child,  let  you  or  anyone 
say  what  you  like." 

Thus  did  the  Duke  of  Rochester's  first  day  of 
his  month  of  liberty  draw  to  its  conclusion.  As 
he  fell  asleep  at  length,  worn  out  between  fatigues 


Young  April  91 

of  body  and  of  mind,  between  the  pain  of  his 
wound  and  the  fever  of  his  re-creating  blood,  his 
last  vision  was  a  silhouette  of  Eva  Visconti's 
shapely  form  thrown  against  the  wall  in  magnifi- 
cent proportions  by  the  night-light  she  was  trim- 
ming. The  last  sound  was  the  tread  of  Neuberg's 
restless  feet  pacing  the  passage  outside  his  room. 


«  What  is  love  ?    Tis  not  hereafter. 
Present  mirth  hath  present  laughter ; 

What's  to  come  is  still  unsure ; 
In  delay  there  lies  no  plenty. 
Then  come  kiss  me,  sweet  and  twenty, 
Youth's  a  stuff  will  not  endure." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

"  THE  wound,"  said  Dr.  Theophilus  Lehmann, 
"is  progressing  very  nicely  —  very  nicely  indeed. 
Na,  when  blood  is  pure  and  young  it  is  permissible 
to  have  it  run  so  hot." 

Rochester,  although  scarce  able  to  lift  a  finger, 
stiff  to  helplessness  from  his  violent  exertions  of 
the  previous  day,  lay  back  among  his  pillows, 
wrapped  in  Neuberg's  finest  linen.  There  was  a 
smile  upon  his  lips,  and  a  curious  glad  serenity 
about  his  heart.  Had  he  not  broken  his  fast  by 
a  draught  of  divine  nectar,  held  to  his  lips  by  the 
loveliest  hand  ?  Grosser  mortals  might  have  called 
the  beverage  "  coffee " ;  but  he,  who  had  seen  it 
mixed  by  a  goddess,  knew  better.  Nectar  it  was. 
The  same  hand  had  buttered  a  roll  for  him,  and 
92 


Young  April  93 

the  little  slaps  of  the  knife  had  sounded  as  sweet 
as  so  many  deliberate  kisses,  and  before  carrying 
over  the  plate  to  him  she  had  absently  munched 
a  slice  herself.  This  had  been  the  last  touch 
needful  to  perfect  the  ambrosial  savour  of  his 
repast. 

Besides  the  exquisite  novelty  of  the  situation,  it 
was  beyond  words  delightful  to  feel  one's  self  the 
sole  object  of  a  beautiful  woman's  solicitude. 

She  had  come  in  upon  his  first  waking  moments 
with  a  stream  of  sunlight,  it  seemed,  and  in  his 
room  she  and  the  sunlight  grew  a  brighter  pres- 
ence together  every  instant. 

With  the  instinct  of  a  born  nurse,  she  had 
chosen  to  clothe  herself  in  a  soft  stuff  gown  that 
made  no  rustle  and  was  of  a  tender,  restful  colour. 
He  was  too  young  yet  to  woman's  ways  to  notice 
this,  but  the  effect  produced  upon  him  as  she 
moved  from  place  to  place  was  ineffably  soothing 
and  satisfying.  She  had  rolled  his  bandages,  she 
had  washed  his  face  with  perfumed  water,  and  he 
had  kissed  her  hand  each  time  it  passed  his  lips, 
and  she  had  rebuked  him  each  time  with  a  tap 
that  was  as  good  as  a  caress.  She  had  brushed 
his  hair  with  an  ivory  brush  scented  from  her  own 
locks.  Once  when  she  leant  over  him  to  shake 
his  pillows  he  had  rested  his  cheek  against  her 


94  Young  April 

lovely  and  tender  bosom  —  that  was  a  moment  to 
treasure  for  ever. 

After  all  this,  there  could  have  been  no  room  in 
his  mind  for  any  rancour,  even  if  the  honest  fight 
itself  had  not  sufficed  to  wipe  all  spite  away,  and 
if  rancour  itself  could  have  existed  in  his  gener- 
ous heart  under  the  breezy  geniality  of  his  yester- 
day's foe.  They  had  exchanged  a  grasp  of  good 
fellowship:  Neuberg's  right  to  Rochester's  left 
hand.  And  as  Eva  installed  herself  at  the 
patient's  bedside  with  a  roll  of  filmy  white  knit- 
ting in  her  hand,  Rochester  could  see  without  any 
displeasure  that  Neuberg  seemed  disposed  to  bear 
her  company. 

In  this  charming  atmosphere  he  fell  asleep,  to 
sleep  the  profound  sleep  of  the  tired  man  whose 
mind  is  at  peace. 

When  he  came  to  consciousness  once  more 
there  was  a  sound  of  low  voices  in  earnest  alterca- 
tion at  the  window  behind  him.  Between  after- 
dreams  and  waking,  he  lay  still  and  listened. 

"  Now,  Neuberg,"  said  the  woman's  voice  in  a 
decided  whisper,  "  if  you  cannot  control  yourself, 
out  you  must  go.  I  will  not  have  our  bargain 
broken  in  this  manner,  nor  my  patient  awakened." 

"  It  is  impossible !  "  answered  the  man's  voice  in 
vehement  tones,  none  the  less  impressive  because 


Young  April  95 

constrained.  "  That  was  a  bargain  no  man  with 
blood  in  his  veins  could  hope  to  keep.  Eva,  is  it 
no  use  ?  " 

"  No,"  echoed  she ,  "  you  know  it  cannot  be  of 
any  use.  Heigh-ho  !  "  she  pursued,  "  if  he  were 
but  a  little  of  your  way  of  thinking,  what  a  happy 
woman  I  should  be !  " 

"  But  as  it  is,"  cried  the  man,  "  we  are  all  mis- 
erable !  Do  you  think,  Eva,  that  if  he  cared  for 
you  I  would  ever  attempt  to  cross  his  path,  if 
there  was  even  the  remotest  chance  of  his  ever 
being  in  love  with  you?  But  he  will  never  love 
any  woman  half  as  well  as  his  own  liberty. 
Liberty  has  been  his  bride  for  all  the  years  of  his 
manhood  —  she  is  ever  the  young  and  the  beauti- 
ful to  him.  You  and  I,  my  dearest,  would  like 
something  more  substantial  for  a  partner ;  but  we 
live  on  a  different  plane  from  our  old  Spencer. 
He  swims  in  a  sort  of  middle  region,  between 
heaven  and  earth.  We,  my  Beau-Sourire,  are  of 
the  earth,  earthy.  Why  waste  your  exquisite 
youth,  your  strength  for  joy,  sighing  for  the  unat- 
tainable ?  Listen,  Eva,  my  Eva !  —  he  is  as  dead 
to  you  as  I  am  alive  —  and  is  not  a  live  dog  better 
than  a  dead  lion  ?  " 

"  If  you  love  me  so  truly  as  you  say,"  answered 
she,  "then  you  will  understand  how  it  is  that  I 


96  Young  April 

must  love  on,  since  I  have  thrown  my  love  before 
him,  even  though  it  be  hopeless.  Or,  rather,  that 
love  is  never  hopeless." 

So  deeply  interested  was  Rochester  in  this 
mysterious  discourse  that  he  shifted  himself 
gently  on  his  pillows  in  such  fashion  that  over  the 
head  of  his  wooden  bed  he  could  now  watch  the 
speakers. 

Eva  was  sitting  at  the  open  window.  Neuberg 
was  kneeling  at  her  feet,  holding  both  her  hands. 
On  the  face  of  each  were  stamped  grief  and  long- 
ing. 

Outside  it  was  raining  —  a  sudden  April  shower. 
But  all  at  once,  across  the  driving  spray,  there 
slanted  a  ray  of  gold  which  fell  on  Eva's  face,  and 
forthwith,  with  a  smile,  she  softly  broke  into  a 
song,  a  snatch  of  melody  as  inconsequent,  as  light 
and  as  plaintive  as  a  bird's.  And  as  she  sang  two 
tears  gathered  in  her  eyes  and  brimmed  over. 

With  a  sort  of  cry  Neuberg  seized  her  round 
the  waist  and  kissed  the  heavy  drops  from  each 
cheek.  She  suffered  him  with  a  sad  gentleness ; 
then  he  sprang  up  and  stamped  his  foot. 

"  Oh,  Eva  !  Eva ! "  cried  he,  "  how  sweet  those 
tears  would  taste  had  they  been  shed  for  me,  but 
now  how  bitter  salt  they  lie  upon  my  lips !  " 

"  Etush ! "  she  said,  glanced  round,  and  saw  the 


Young  April  97 

Duke's   dark   eyes,  just   clear  of  the  pillowcase, 
watching  her  fixedly.     She  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Look  at  the  boy,"  she  said ;  "  he  is  ready  to  de- 
vour you!  There,  there,  I  must  not  make  any 
bad  blood  to-day,  or  the  little  Doctor  will  scold." 

She  tripped  over  to  the  bed,  and  with  a  deft 
twist  re-established  the  patient  properly  on  his 
pillow,  tucking  in  the  disordered  bedclothes. 
Then,  stooping,  she  kissed  him  with  a  chirp  that 
rang  heartily  through  the  room. 

"  There  ! "  she  said. 

Which  was  the  blacker,  Rochester's  face  or 
Neuberg's  ?  She  looked  from  one  to  the  other 
and  marked  their  scowl. 

"  You  men  are  all  alike,  big  and  little,"  she  said. 

"  Eva,"  said  Neuberg  gravely,  "  it  is  when  you 
do  such  things  as  this  that  you  give  food  to  the 
evil  tongues  that  wag  about  you." 

"  Heavens  ! "  cried  she  and  shrugged  her  shoul- 
ders ;  "  what  is  a  poor  woman  to  do  ?  Since  I  may 
give  so  much  pleasure  at  so  little  cost,  why  not  ?  " 

"  That  is  a  maxim,"  said  he,  and  his  brow  was 
thunder-black,  his  voice  rasping,  "that  might  be 
pushed  far " 

"  You  know  best,"  she   retorted  hotly,   "  how 
far."     She  flounced  out  of  the   room,  and,  good 
nurse  as  she  was,  slammed  the  door  behind  her. 
H 


98  Young  April 

"  What  does  it  all  mean  ?  "  said  the  Duke,  pain- 
fully excited. 

"  It  means,"  said  Neuberg,  who  flung  himself 
into  a  chair,  "  that,  for  all  that,  she  is  as  straight 
as  a  die.  But  it  means  also  that  I  am  the  most 
miserable  dog  on  earth." 

He  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and  groaned  so 
bitterly  that  the  Duke  felt  quite  sorry  for  him. 

Rochester  lay  silent  for  a  time  while  Neuberg 
clutched  his  hair  with  despairing  fingers,  and  the 
very  room  grew  dark  once  more.  The  rain  was 
again  pattering  outside. 

Gone  was  sweet  placidity,  fond  memories,  all 
obliterated  by  a  cruel  kiss  of  indifference.  Bitter, 
too,  was  the  knowledge  that  there  was  a  favoured 
he.  An  irritating  curiosity  concerning  this  mys- 
terious person,  whom  even  the  fiery  Neuberg 
named  with  loving  admiration,  began  to  agitate 
his  soul. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  said  the  Duke,  in  a  solemn  voice, 
following  the  train  of  his  thoughts.  "  Who  is  it 
that  she  loves  ?  " 

Neuberg  leaped  up  and  came  to  sit  at  the  end  of 
the  bed. 

"  Ah ! "  said  he,  his  face  flushing,  "  who  is  he 
indeed?  Why,  it  is  no  less  a  one  than  Michael 
Spencer — my  own  best  friend.  If  you  come  to 


Young  April  99 

the  Capital,  as  I  suppose  you  intend  to  do,  then 
you  shall  know  him,  and  your  life  be  the  richer 
ever  afterwards.  Meanwhile,  what  can  I  tell  you? 
He  is  an  Englishman,  like  you  — "  But  Neu- 
berg's  eye,  measuring  the  boyish  figure,  said  as 
plainly  as  speech,  "  Yet  how  unlike  you !  "  "  He  is 
a  man  perhaps  of  thirty-five,  who  has  travelled 
much  all  over  the  world,  has  had,  I  know,  more 
adventures  than  we  shall  ever  hear  of.  His  past 
is  mysterious.  He  is,  in  a  way,  a  cosmopolitan. 
He  has  been  a  doctor.  When  I  first  knew  him,  he 
was  a  professor  of  philosophy  at  the  university  of 
Bologna,  where  I  was  in  garrison." 

"  I  know  the  name  of  Spencer,"  said  the  Duke 
coldly;  "we  have  an  Earl  Spencer  in  England, 
and  perhaps  half  a  dozen  county  families  of  the 
name.  What  particular  family  does  your  eccentric 
friend  claim  kinship  with?"  His  lip  curled  a 
little  as  he  spoke. 

"  Claim  kinship !  He !  "  cried  Neuberg.  "  I 
wish  he  heard  you.  He  claim  pride  in  such  things 
as  birth  or  title !  " 

"But,  Count  Neuberg,"  said  the  Duke,  lifting 
himself  on  his  sound  elbow  with  intensest  surprise, 
"surely  of  all  the  legitimate  sources  of  pride, 
race " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  broke  in  the  officer,  "  we  know  all 


ioo  Young  April 

that  —  that  may  be  very  well  for  you  or  me. 
Spencer  is  himself,  and  can  be  nothing  more." 

There  was  a  silence,  and  the  Duke  looked  mus- 
ingly at  his  interlocutor. 

"  I  came  across  him  again,"  said  Neuberg,  "  two 
years  ago,  in  Vienna.  After  that  our  friendship 
sprang  up.  That  is  the  way  with  him:  one  is 
drawn  to  him  in  spite  of  one's  self.  Wherever  he 
goes,  the  best  youth  of  the  country  gathers  around 
him.  But  he  is  too  erratic  to  remain  long  in  one 
place,  too  independent  to  stand  the  tedium  of  set- 
tled occupation.  The  intellect  of  a  philosopher, 
the  tastes  of  a  poet,  the  instinct  of  a  rover,"  con- 
tinued Neuberg,  waxing  warm  in  his  loyal  enthu- 
siasm. "Wise  beyond  words  —  in  theory.  To 
hear  him  speak,  you  would  think  of  a  Socrates 
reincarnated,  with  the  best  of  Plato,  and  a  dash  of 
St.  Paul ;  but  when  it  comes  to  practicality "  — 
Neuberg  threw  back  his  head,  and  laughed  gently 
at  some  recollections  —  "  you  find,  bless  him !  that 
the  soaring  philosopher  is  only  the  pearl  of  good 
fellows,  after  all.  His  reputation  for  wisdom  has 
preceded  him  here ;  now  he  is  at  the  Court  of  our 
King,  who  is  a  great  reformer,  and  whom  he  con- 
descends to  assist  with  advice  on  many  questions 
interesting  to  a  reforming  King." 

The  Duke  looked  and  felt  puzzled,  sour,  and 
withal  incredulous. 


Young  April  IOI 

"And  so,"  said  he,  after  a  long  pause,  "Eva 
Visconti  loves  this  anomaly  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Eva  loves  him,"  echoed  Neuberg,  begin- 
ning to  pace  the  room,  while  his  voice  rang  with  a 
tone  half  bitter,  half  sweet.  "  And  as  you  have 
heard,  she  makes  no  secret  of  it  all.  She  loves  him, 
poor  soul !  as  generously  and  completely  as  she 
does  all  things.  And  how  could  she  help  it  ?  Who 
could  blame  her?  It  was  passion  at  first  sight  — 
the  very  day  I  introduced  him  to  her.  You  ought 
to  feel  flattered,  young  man,"  added  Neuberg,  halt- 
ing before  the  bed  again,  "  that  she  should  remain 
here  to  nurse  you  in  this  way,  for  it  was  to  be  near 
him  again  that  she  hurried  on  her  journey  in  this 
way." 

Ay,  the  postilion  remembered  the  fair  traveller's 
unreasonable  impatience  to  proceed.  And  she  de- 
layed to  nurse  him ! 

It  was  the  first  time  that  he  realized  the  fact, 
and  the  fact  was  most  gratifying  to  realize.  A 
shade  of  gloom  began  to  lift  from  his  brow. 

"  Do  you  think,"  said  he,  after  a  little  pause,  with 
a  new  anxiety  in  his  accent  —  "  are  you  so  certain 
that  your  friend  will  not  love  her  in  return  ?  She 
is  very  beautiful,  very  captivating " 

Neuberg's  lips  shot  the  most  good-humoured 
scorn. 


IO2  Young  April 

"  What  a  clever  fellow  you  must  be,"  he  cried, 
"to  discover  all  that  at  once!  But  there,  never 
fret :  Michael  Spencer  is  no  more  for  her  than  she 
is  for  me  —  or  for  you  either,  all  Duke  as  you  are. 
There  is  the  farce  and  tragedy  of  life  for  you! 
Michael  love  Eva?  Spencer  in  love  with  any 
woman  living  ?  No,  no.  I  should  wish  it  in  my 
heart  otherwise  for  her,  though  I  believe  it  would 
break  my  heart.  But  it  will  not  be  —  that  dreamy, 
roving  bird  has  lived  free  so  long  that  it  will  never 
mate  now.  If  Spencer  ever  loves,  it  will  have  to 
be  some  strange  being  created  to  match  himself, 
some  quite  impossible  creature,  more  than  half 
goddess,  wholly  grande  dame.  But  Eva  is  a  very 
child  of  nature.  Eva  was  made  for  such  as  my- 
self," he  added,  and  struck  his  palm  with  his 
clenched  hand.  "But,  alas!  she  will  not  see  it, 
and  all  the  salt  of  my  life  seems  to  be  gone  out  of 
it  for  the  sheer  want  of  her." 

"What  are  you  talking  of?"  said  Eva,  popping 
her  head  in  at  the  door.  "  Tra  la  la  lira !  See 
the  sun  ?  "  She  was  smiling.  Both  looked  back 
at  her  with  a  reflection  of  her  own  brightness. 
"  That  is  right,"  she  went  on ;  "  good  boys  again ! 
Do  you  know  what  I  have  done  ?  Why,  written 
and  sent  a  billet-doux  to  the  little  precise  Doctor 
—  he  is  a  gem,  that  little  Doctor !  —  asking  him  to 


Young  April  103 

sup  with  us  to-night.  I  have  ordered  such  a  sup- 
per, my  children !  I  went  down  to  the  cook  my- 
self ;  he  has  lost  his  heart  to  me.  He  will  cook 
con  amore" 

The  room  was  again  flooded  with  sunshine,  and 
Eva  lifted  her  glorious  voice  and  sang  like  a  happy 
thrush. 


XI 

« I  think  the  boy  hath  grace  in  him ; 

He  blushes." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

"BY  the  way,"  said  Eva  suddenly,  dropping 
from  a  wonderful  high  note  to  her  natural  speak- 
ing voice,  "  there  is  a  friend  of  yours,  my  Duke, 
asking  for  you  downstairs." 

The  Duke's  face  went  white. 

"  Is  it,"  said  he,  in  a  strangled  voice  —  "  is  it  a 
stout  man  in  clerical  black?  Oh,  for  Heaven's 
sake  do  not  let  him  up ! " 

He  gripped  the  bedclothes  nervously  with  his 
left  hand,  as  if  ready  to  dive  under  their  protect- 
ing shades. 

"  Ho,  ho  ! "  said  Neuberg ;  "  now  we  are  going 
to  have  a  little  mystery  unravelled.  And  who 
might  the  stout  gentleman  in  clerical  black  be?  " 

From  white,  the  Duke  turned  poppy  red.  Was 
the  aspirant  to  Eva  Visconti's  favours,  the  rival  of 
a  dashing  Life  Guardsman,  and  his  opponent  in  a 
duel  for  life  or  death,  to  be  exposed  to  derision  by 
a  schoolboy's  tutor  ? 

104 


Young  April  105 

Eva  saw  his  discomfiture. 

"  Come,"  said  she,  "  I  won't  have  my  new 
admirer  plagued.  It  is  only  my  truant  servant 
and  your  brother  postilion.  You  gave  him  ren- 
dezvous, so  he  says,  at  the  Capital ;  but,  halting 
here  for  inquiries  and  refreshments  on  the  road, 
he  learnt  that  we  were  still  in  the  house.  I  was 
in  the  kitchen,  you  know ;  I  heard  his  voice,  and 
pounced  out  on  him.  (I  gave  him  a  pretty  soap- 
ing, I  promise  you  !)  He  has  brought  your  port- 
manteau, and  a  story  to  tell  you  about  it,  and  is 
clamorous  for  certain  yellow  breeches,  and  a  green 
coat,  and  a  hat  with  pretty  plaits,  and  for  his 
little  boots." 

She  pointed  with  the  daintiest  of  toes  to  the 
two  depressed  leather  monstrosities  in  the  corner. 

"  Let  us  have  the  fellow  up,  by  all  means,"  said 
Neuberg,  with  joyful  anticipation. 

The  Duke's  countenance,  which  had  cleared 
considerably,  once  more  fell. 

"I  think,"  said  he,  "if  you  do  not  mind,  it 
might  be  as  well  if  I  saw  the  man  in  private.  We 
have  a  little  business  arrangement " 

Both  Eva  and  Neuberg  interrupted  uproariously. 

"  Ah,  but  not  at  all,"  cried  she  ;  "  my  post  is  at 
your  bedside." 

"  And,"  said  Neuberg,  "  your  escapade,  Duke, 


io6  Young  April 

has  so  very  nearly  been  a  tragedy  for  all  of  us 
that  you  ought  not  to  grudge  us  a  little  fun  now." 

"  I  told  the  man,  in  fact,"  said  the  prima 
donna,  "to  follow  up  in  a  few  minutes,  and  here 
he  comes." 

Tramping  feet  were  heard  approaching;  they 
halted  outside  the  door,  and  then  came  the  loud 
knock  of  shy  rusticity. 

"  Come  in,"  said  the  Duke  faintly ;  and  in 
walked  Niklaus. 

He  halted,  abashed  at  sight  of  the  company, 
deposited  the  portmanteau  he  was  carrying, 
scratched  a  salute  with  leg  and  hand,  and  stood 
grinning. 

"  You  have  brought  some  of  my  luggage  ?  "  said 
Rochester.  "  Thank  you ;  that  is  well.  Count 
Neuberg,  would  you  be  good  enough  to  give  me 
the  pocket-book  you  will  find  in  the  drawer  of  the 
table?" 

"  With  permission,"  said  the  man,  clearing  his 
throat,  "  I  brought  the  portmanteau,  as  your  lord- 
ship bade  me.  I  went  to  your  lordship's  servant 
with  the  bit  of  a  note  your  lordship  gave  me  —  na, 
that  is  a  chap  after  my  own  heart!  We  could  talk 
little,  but  good  souls  understand  each  other.  I  told 
him,"  pursued  Niklaus  archly,  as,  encouraged  by 
the  genial  smiles  of  his  whilom  mistress  and  of 


Young  April  107 

the  handsome  officer,  he  warmed  to  his  subject, — 
"  I  told  him  your  honour  had  something  very  par- 
ticular to  say  to  a  lady.  And  this  Johann,  he 
was  quite  pleased  to  hear  it,  and  pointed  out  the 
old  gentleman's  window  and  .winked,  and  put  his 
hand  to  his  nose  —  saving  your  presence,  this  way, 
gracious  lady  —  and  could  not  laugh  enough  that 
your  lordship  should  so  do  the  old  gentleman. 
Well,  Johann  packed  your  lordship's  clothes 
which  I  gave  him,  and  I  took  the  portmanteau 
into  the  town." 

"Katie  must  have  been  charmed  to  see  you," 
said  the  Duke,  who  was  beginning  to  recover  his 
spirits,  as  the  dangerous  ground  seemed  success- 
fully tided  over. 

Niklaus's  grin  extended  to  inconceivable  limits, 
and  he  gave  a  bashful  shuffle. 

"  "Well,  then,  your  honour,"  said  he,  "  Ludwig, 
an  acquaintance  of  mine  in  the  hotel,  came  to  see 
me,  and  told  me  fine  tales.  First,  that  the  Herr 
Pastor,  when  he  found  that  your  honour  had  gone, 
he  was  bad  enough,  but  when  your  letter  came  he 
was  like  one  demented.  Ludwig  knows  a  little 
English,  and  he  says  he  never  heard  such  language 
as  that  old  gentleman  used  —  never  !  He  sent  for 
the  landlord  and  all  the  servants,  and  accused 
them  of  conniving.  I  was  glad  to  be  out  of  the 


io8  Young  April 

way.  And  then  he  says,  it  seems,  *  Send  for  the 
police,  and  get  my  travelling  chaise  ready  im- 
mediately.' 'Right,'  says  the  landlord.  But 
when  he  comes  with  his  bill,  the  old  gentleman 
goes  as  red  and  white  as  beetroot  and  horse- 
radish. And  he  has  not  a  groat  —  not  one.  Ha, 
ha!  For  it  seems  your  lordship  had  carried  off 
purse,  passport,  and  everything." 

Eva  and  Neuberg  exchanged  a  glance,  and  then 
fixed  their  eyes  upon  the  Duke. 

"  Really,"  said  Eva,  "  you  are  a  promising  young 
man." 

"  It  was  very  neat,"  said  Neuberg ;  "  but  hardly, 
perhaps,  moral  or  kind." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  Duke  haughtily,  "  I  shall  make 
it  all  up  to  him  some  day.  But  if  you  knew  what 
I  have  suffered  through  that  intolerable  old  ass  — 
He  is  my  —  my  chaplain,"  he  went  on  loftily,  under 
a  happy  inspiration ;  "but  he  presumed  upon  his  po- 
sition in  the  most  unwarrantable  manner.  If  I  had 
left  him  any  money,"  continued  the  Duke,  blushing, 
"  he  would  have  been  after  me  like  a  bloodhound. 
The  only  way  to  be  rid  of  him  was  to  anchor  him. 
He  is  in  perfectly  comfortable  quarters,  and  has 
only  got  to  wait  till  I  pick  him  up  again,  or  till  a 
fresh  remittance  reaches  him  from  home." 

His  hearers  laughed,  not  in  the  least  convinced 


Young  April  109 

by  the  young  man's  magnificent  airs ;  but  a  tutor 
is  legitimate  sport  all  the  world  over. 

"  You  will  go  far,  my  friend,"  said  Eva.  "  Well, 
Niklaus,  what  happened  next  ?  " 

"  Oh,  then,  gracious  lady,  the  landlord  got  very 
angry — he  has  a  hot  head,  has  the  landlord  — 
and  he  said  the  old  gentleman  wanted  to  swindle 
him,  and  that  he  would  want  the  police  himself. 
And  when  he  found  out  that  your  honour's  lug- 
gage had  already  gone,  he  said  that  neither  Johann, 
nor  the  horses,  nor  the  luggage,  nor  the  Herr  Pastor 
himself,  should  stir  a  foot  outside  the  hotel  till  the 
bill  was  paid.  And  the  pastor  had  to  speak  very 
meek  and  humble  before  he  could  be  pacified.  And 
Ludwig  said  that  the  chambermaid  told  him  that 
when  she  brought  him  his  supper  the  poor  gentle- 
man was  weeping." 

"  Oh !  oh !  oh !  "  cried  Eva ;  "  does  not  your  con- 
science prick  you,  you  little  monster  ?  " 

"Oh,  pooh!"  said  the  Duke;  "he  will  be  the 
first  to  forgive  me.  He  knows  which  side  his  bread 
is  buttered."  Then  he  looked  at  Eva's  dimpling 
mouth.  "  I  regret  nothing,"  he  said. 

The  postilion  received  a  further  gratuity,  recog- 
nized with  delight,  and  folded,  his  own  clothes,  and 
finally  departed,  hugging  them  fondly  to  his  breast, 
apparently  inhaling  their  well-known  savour  with 
rapture. 


XII 

"  La  chose  fut  exquise  et  fort  bien  ordonne'e. 
C'etait  au  mois  d'Avril,  et  dans  une  journee 
Si  douce,  qu'on  cut  dit  qu' Amour  1'eut  fait  expres." 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

"  DOES  he  not  look  pretty?  "  said  Eva,  stepping 
back  a  pace. 

Rochester  had  insisted  upon  rising  for  the  sup- 
per-party. And  as  not  all  the  Doctor's  science 
could  find  a  trace  of  fever  in  the  pulse,  the  resolu- 
tion had  been  passed  that  the  very  scene  of  the  fray 
should  be  the  scene  of  the  feast. 

"The  friendly  juice  of  the  grape  shall  circle 
now  where  the  angry  blood  lay  red,"  said  the  little 
Doctor,  and  laughed  genially  at  his  conceit.  He 
had  made  himself  exceedingly  smart  for  the  occa- 
sion, with  his  best  black  suit  and  silver  buckles 
that  glinted  again,  and  a  satin  stock  of  the  very 
first  quality. 

But  it  was  not  to  him   that   Eva's   admiration 
pointed,  nor  yet  to   Neuberg,  though   this   latter 
looked  spruce  and  handsome  and  gallant  enough. 
no 


Young  April  in 

Rochester  had  kept  the  little  party  waiting,  and 
Hans,  the  orderly,  alone  had  assisted  at  the  mys- 
teries of  a  toilet  that  was  destined  to  create  a  new 
and  splendid  impression,  to  remove  an  old  and 
sordid  one.  When  at  last  —  postilion  turned  into 
dandy  of  the  first  water  —  the  tardy  guest  stood 
upon  the  threshold  and  looked  in  upon  them,  half 
shyly,  half  victoriously,  all  three  were  surprised  by 
the  graceful  apparition  and  remained  staring  at  him 
a  moment  or  two  in  silence. 

"  Does  he  not  look  pretty  ?  "  cried  Eva  then. 

And,  indeed,  with  the  slender  elegance  of  hip 
and  thigh  set  off  by  the  most  exacting  cut  of  an 
English  tailor,  with  knee  and  ankle  gleaming  be- 
neath meshes  of  close-drawn  silk,  with  his  wounded 
arm  in  its  white  ruffled  shirt-sleeve  slung  in  a 
purple  scarf,  the  pallor  of  his  invalid  state  height- 
ening the  original  refinement  of  his  countenance 
and  throwing  into  stronger  relief  the  depth  of  his 
brown  eyes  and  the  pale  glory  of  his  hair,  the 
Duke  of  Rochester  was  as  pretty  a  specimen  of 
English  youth  as  one  could  hope  to  see  all  the 
world  over. 

"  Come,  come  ! "  cried  the  prima  donna ;  "  I  am 
dying  of  hunger.  It  is  as  much  as  I  have  been 
able  to  do  to  resist  drinking  out  of  the  soup-ladle. 
Doctor,  sit  you  on  my  right.  You,  Mr.  Postilion, 


H2  Young  April 

come  here  to  my  left,  and  I  will  cut  your  dinner 
for  you  so  nicely  that  you  will  not  regret  the  little 
accident  which  deprived  you  of  your  right  arm. 
Neuberg,  my  friend,  sit  opposite  to  me,  and  you 
can  dream  that  you  are  doing  the  honours  of  my 
table.  Oh,  dear,  what  a  good  soup ! " 

Even  if  her  three  guests  had  not  been  already 
in  the  best  possible  frame  of  mind,  it  would  have 
been  impossible  to  resist  such  open-hearted  gaiety. 
The  champagne  foamed  in  the  beakers,  the  rims 
touched  with  musical  ring. 

"  May  all  affairs  of  honour  be  like  this  one ! " 
cried  Eva,  and  drank. 

"  With  your  permission,"  said  the  Doctor,  beam- 
ing in  the  unwonted  delight  of  such  company  and 
such  entertainment,  —  "  with  your  permission, 
most  fair  and  gracious  lady,  one  could  scarcely 
wish  all  honourable  encounters  to  be  conducted 
quite  so  irregularly,  however  charming  it  would 
be  if  they  could  all  conclude  in  this  harmony  — 
eh  ?  Ah,  my  lord  Duke,  if  yours  be  the  English 
fashion  of  duelling,  I  trust  I  may  never  be  called 
upon  to  be  second  again  to  countryman  of  yours. 
Positively,  my  dear  madame,  I  saw  the  moment 
when  they  both  would  be  cleft  upon  each  other's 
sword,  and  that  in  defiance  of  any  known  custom, 
rule,  canon  or  law  of  the  art !  " 


Young  April  113 

"  Oh,  goodness !  "  interrupted  Eva,  and  tapped 
the  speaker  with  her  knuckles ;  "  be  quiet,  Doc- 
tor! I  do  not  want  to  hear  another  word  about 
it.  Did  I  not  have  enough  of  it,  listening  to 
them  carrying  on  like  wild  cats  over  my  head? 
And,  O  Lord!  what  I  endured  when,  all  of  a 
sudden,  everything  was  quiet  as  the  grave.  And 
none  of  you  would  have  the  politeness  to  answer 
me,  or  let  me  in.  No,  Neuberg,  not  another  word 
about  it  —  all's  well  that  ends  well :  that  is  enough. 
Here,  give  me  that  salad,  and  I  will  toss  it.  Fill 
your  enemy's  glass,  if  the  Doctor  will  allow." 

"Moderation,  moderation,"  said  the  Doctor. 
"Na,  I  do  not  hold  with  such  of  my  colleagues 
as  recommend  low  feeding  after  loss  of  blood. 
Nature  must  be  stimulated,  but " 

"  Then  let  us  stimulate  her  by  all  means,"  said 
Eva.  "A  slice  of  ham  for  the  patient,  for  to- 
morrow I  carry  him  off,  bones  and  baggage." 

Her  face  radiated  joy.  Neuberg  smiled  at  her, 
in  curious  sympathy  with  those  very  feelings 
which  made  his  misfortune. 

"Nay,  but,"  said  the  man  of  medicine,  "the 
wound  must  be  looked  to  for  many  days  yet." 

"And  it  shall  be  looked  to,"  said  the  lady. 
"  We  have  a  doctor  for  him,  a  doctor  as  good  as 
you  —  and  give  him  higher  praise,"  she  added, 
i 


H4  Young  April 

laughing,  "  we  could  not.  Will  you  not  come  with 
us  to-morrow,  little  Duke  ?  and  I  promise  you  that 
I  will  roll  your  bandages  for  you  every  day." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  boy,  "  to  the  end  of  the  world 
for  such  a  bribe.  I  am  only  sorry,"  he  added, 
turning  to  Neuberg,  "that  you  did  not  deal  a 
little  harder  with  me  when  you  went  about  it, 
for  I  fear  this  trifling  scratch  will  be  well  all 
but  too  soon." 

"  Faith !  "  said  Neuberg,  "  it  is  indeed  you  who 
have  scored,  you  young  dog.  If  I  had  had  half 
my  wits  about  me,  I  would  have  let  you  get  in  one 
of  your  neat  little  strokes.  Oh,  Eva,"  he  pursued, 
and  looked  languishingly  across  the  table,  "  what 
exquisite  moments  I  have  missed ! " 

"  I  think,"  said  the  Doctor  quaintly,  "  that  if 
our  young  friend  had  come  in  with  one  of  those 
neat  little  strokes,  as  you  call  them,  there  would 
have  been  no  more  measuring  of  time  for  you,  my 
lord  Count.  All  you,  madame,  could  have  done 
would  have  been  to  put  flowers  on  the  grave  of  a 
most  gallant  gentleman." 

"  Doctor,  you  are  a  monster ! "  said  Eva ;  "  you 
will  make  me  weep.  Who  can  talk  of  graves  with 
life  before  one  ?  Long  live  life,  say  I.  I  will  have 
no  more  talk  about  fighting  or  killing,  I  tell  you ; 
it  is  all  to  be  good-fellowship  for  the  future.  And, 


"'I  DRINK  TO  THE  MOST  BEAUTIFUL  WOMAN   IN  THE  WORLD!'" 


Young  April  115 

after  all,  out  of  evil  good  may  come,  and  from  the 
silly  quarrel  of  two  silly  young  men  has  sprung,  I 
hope,  a  wise  friendship  —  not  to  speak,"  she  added 
graciously,  "  of  the  pleasure  of  the  acquaintance  of 
such  a  person  as  yourself." 

The  little  Doctor  smirked ;  his  eye  lingered  on 
his  neighbour  with  an  admiration  that  the  newly 
wedded  little  flaxen  housewife  at  home  might  rea- 
sonably have  found  objectionable. 

"Certainly,"  thought  he  to  himself,  "these  fair 
votaries  of  Thespis  are  dangerous  creatures.  They 
have  a  way  with  them,  a  way  which  is  not  to  be 
denied." 

"  Gentlemen,"  cried  Neuberg,  rising  from  his 
seat,  "  a  toast !  a  toast !  I  drink  to  the  most  beau- 
tiful woman  in  the  world  and  the  divinest  singer 
—  our  Prima  Donna,  Eva  Beau-Sourire  ! " 

"  Hip !  hip  ! "  cried  the  Duke  in  his  clear  boy's 
voice. 

"  Hurrah !  "  piped  the  Doctor  knowingly,  and 
put  down  his  beaker  empty. 

*  *  *  *  * 

An  hour  before  noon  the  next  day,  beneath  a 
fair  spring  sky,  exquisite  blue,  with  only  a  dapple 
of  white  and  gray,  under  a  skurrying,  mischievous 
wind,  there  issued  forth  from  the  courtyard  of  the 
Toll  House  Inn  a  joyous  little  band  of  travellers : 


n6  Young  April 

Count  Neuberg,  once  more  the  Guardsman  point- 
de-vice,  circling  on  his  blood  mare,  and  followed  by 
dapper  Hans ;  the  chaise  that  had  witnessed  such 
odd  scenes,  drawn  by  the  bay  and  brown  in  spank- 
ing vigour  after  their  long  rest,  and  shining  with 
corn  and  currying ;  on  the  near  saddle  a  grinning 
Niklaus.  Then,  in  the  gloom  of  the  coach,  Eva  — 
a  jewel  in  grimy  setting — and  Rochester  beside 
her,  still  adorned  with  becoming  wanness,  smiling 
with  the  pleasant  consciousness  of  having,  after 
all,  the  best  of  the  bargain  —  as  indeed  he  had. 

Off  went  the  party,  to  the  great  admiration  of 
all  beholders,  while  the  stable  hens  fluttered 
screaming  on  every  side,  and  the  stable-dog 
barked  fiercely  and  wagged  a  friendly  tail.  Dr. 
Theophilus  Lehmann  stood  under  the  lintel  of  the 
hotel-door  to  see  them  off.  Eva's  little  handker- 
chief fluttered  farewell  to  him  all  the  way  up  the 
street;  he  waved  in  return  a  superfine  yellow  ban- 
dana. Then,  when  they  had  passed  the  Frontier 
Bridge,  and  the  stablemen  had  sloped  back  to  their 
work,  and  the  hens,  clucking  satisfaction,  resumed 
their  search  for  grain  among  the  stones,  the  little 
Doctor,  with  a  smile  and  a  sigh,  turned  to  take  up 
once  more  his  daily  round. 


XIII 

"  Wir  breiten  nur  den  Mantel  aus 
Der  soil  uns  durch  die  Liifte  tragen, 

#  *  *  *  * 

Und  sind  wir  leicht,  so  geht  es  schnell  hinauf  j 
Ich  gratulire  dir  zum  neuen  Lebenslauf  1 " 

GOETHE. 

EVA  beguiled  the  road  with  laughter  and  with 
song.  But  as  the  shades  began  to  thicken,  the 
mists  to  rise,  the  hour  of  arrival  to  approach,  she 
grew  pensive  and  gradually  fell  into  silence  and 
stillness. 

Rochester  was  not  sorry  for  the  opportunity  to 
feed  in  quiet  upon  his  own  reflections,  and  let  his 
fancy  play  with  visions  of  all  the  unknown  experi- 
ences that  awaited  him  within  the  walls  of  yonder 
Capital.  Moreover,  it  was  exquisite  to  lie  back 
and  feel  the  sweetness  of  his  travelling-companion's 
presence  permeate  his  being,  to  steep  himself,  as  it 
were,  in  a  reality  which  already  exceeded  in  de- 
light his  most  fantastic  dream. 

Within  an  appreciable  distance  of  the  town, 
Neuberg's  voice,  announcing  that  he  intended  to 

117 


n8  Young  April 

start  ahead,  broke  in  upon  their  reverie.  The 
crisp  canter  of  their  escort's  horses  rose  a  little 
while  above  the  sound  of  their  own  bowling 
coach,  and  was  swallowed  up  in  the  distance 
before  them. 

Soon  darkness  closed  fully;  the  chill  of  the 
night  and  the  weariness  of  the  long  day  was 
upon  them.  Then  lights  glimmered,  silhouettes 
of  tall  houses  reared  themselves  darkly,  the  horses' 
hoofs  rang  upon  the  stone  pavements,  the  chaise 
rattled  in  streets  —  this  was  the  Capital. 

Eva  now  leaned  forward,  lowered  her  window, 
and  gazed  eagerly  out,  as  if  every  passer-by  must 
needs  wear  the  face  she  looked  for,  or  every 
house  at  least  send  forth  the  light  of  his 
lamp. 

It  seemed,  even  at  this  dull  hour,  between  the 
business  of  the  day  and  night,  a  bustling,  cheer- 
ful, well-to-do  place.  The  main  streets  were 
crowded:  smart  soldiers  went  by,  outrageous 
swaggering  students,  tripping  servant-maids  with 
bare  arms  and  neat  aprons,  comfortable  fathers 
that  cast  vast  shadows  on  the  pavement  as  they 
passed  the  street-lamps  escorting  their  wives  and 
families  to  some  place  of  amusement.  Open 
cafes,  mirror-bright  within,  disgorged  the  surplus 
of  their  tables  on  to  the  pavement.  As  they 


Young  April  119 

drove  along,  broken  strains  of  music,  the  clinking 
of  glasses,  the  laughter  of  cheerful  and  thirsty 
souls,  resounded  in  their  ears,  and  was  lost  again. 
By-and-by  they  entered  a  quieter  and  more  aristo- 
cratic quarter  of  the  town,  crossed  a  deserted 
square,  where  everything  seemed  already  asleep 
for  the  night  under  the  guardianship  of  the 
budding  lime-trees;  passed  an  admirable  church, 
fretted  and  chiselled,  with  slender  up-springing 
shafts,  mysterious  with  sombre  recesses,  rows  of 
windows  sending  gleams  of  ruby  out  into  the 
night,  the  grave  voice  of  the  organ  pouring 
through  the  swing-doors  on  the  hurried  entrance 
of  some  belated  worshipper. 

The  chaise  now  turned  abruptly  into  a  side- 
street,  bordered  by  rows  of  trees  and  high,  silent 
houses.  Before  one  of  these  it  halted.  Instantly 
a  small  front-door  up  a  flight  of  steps  was  opened, 
sending  out  a  cheerful  little  ray  of  lamplight.  A 
comfortable,  neat  old  woman,  with  a  black  apron, 
a  flowered  shawl  crossed  upon  her  bosom,  and  a 
wizened  apple  face,  each  wrinkle  of  which  smiled 
welcome,  stood  within  and  curtseyed. 

"Do  not  get  out,"  said  Eva,  pressing  at  the 
same  time  with  her  right  hand  the  Duke's  left  as 
it  lay  upon  his  knee.  "  This  is  my  future  home. 
Niklaus  shall  take  you  round  to  Neuberg's,  to 


I2O  Young  April 

whose  nursing  you  may  now,  I  think,  be  en- 
trusted." 

She  stood  on  the  top  of  the  steps  a  second  and 
shook  hands  with  her  landlady,  handed  out  the 
birdcage  to  the  grinning  maid  that  came  patter- 
ing, bare-armed,  down  the  steps,  then  paused  a 
second. 

She  breathed  deeply  once  or  twice  and  passed 
her  hand  across  her  forehead. 

"I  do  not  know  how  it  is  with  me  to-night," 
she  said  nervously  ;  and  Rochester,  gazing  at  her, 
could  hardly  believe  that  this  pale-faced,  troubled 
woman  was  the  dashing  creature  that  had  slapped 
his  cheek  one  day  and  smoothed  his  pillow  the 
next  with  equal  self-reliance.  "Drive  on,  Nik- 
laus,"  said  she,  "  and  good-night  to  you  both." 

She  entered  the  house,  the  door  closed  behind 
her,  and  the  young  man  felt  that  the  street  had 
grown  very  dark,  that  the  air  of  the  chaise  struck 
cold,  that  its  recesses  had  become  a  desert. 


XIV 

"  Ami,  pourquoi  contemplez-vous  sans  cesse 
Le  jour  qui  fuit,  ou  Pombre  qui  s'abaisse, 
Ou  1'astre  d'or  qui  monte  a  1'orient  ?  .  .  ." 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

"  WELCOME,  Duke ! "  said  Neuberg. 

To  a  boy  of  Rochester's  age,  the  favour  of  an 
older  and  more  experienced  man,  of  a  man  for 
whom  he  entertains  admiration,  is  almost  as  grati- 
fying as  that  of  a  woman.  The  chilling  impres- 
sion of  Eva's  unwonted  mood  and  of  her  careless 
farewell  was  instantly  removed  by  the  heartiness 
of  this  greeting. 

He  glanced  round  his  host's  homely  sitting- 
room  with  a  sense  of  well-being,  yet  of  surprise, 
for  the  place  was  almost  Spartan  in  its  simplicity : 
curiously  different  from  anything  that  his  English 
fancy  might  sketch  as  the  home  of  a  smart  young 
Guardsman,  much  less  a  Royal  Equerry.  It  was 
a  long,  low-ceiled  room,  with  three  windows  look- 
ing upon  the  yet  unknown  square,  draped  only 
by  scant  white  lace  curtains  ;  the  floor  of  boards, 


122  Young  April 

thickly  glazed  with  yellow  ochre  paint,  was 
carpeted  beneath  a  large  central  table  with  a 
square  of  brilliant  drugget;  the  walls  were  inno- 
cent of  decoration  but  for  a  rack  filled  with  an 
extraordinary  array  of  meerschaum  pipes,  two 
handsome  regulation  sabres  crossed  under  an 
embroidered  sabretache,  and  an  enormous  patch 
of  sky-blue  cloak  hanging  behind  the  door.  The 
furniture  was  reduced  to  the  strict  minimum  of 
six  horsehair  chairs  and  a  sofa,  considerably  in- 
dented in  the  middle,  notwithstanding  its  unin- 
viting texture. 

The  centre  table  was  spread  for  supper  with  a 
coarse,  but  spotless,  cloth.  The  knives  were 
horn-handled;  two  covered  tankards,  filled  with 
a  foaming  and  generous  measure  of  beer,  were 
flanked  by  a  yard  of  bread.  Hans,  girded  with 
a  white  apron,  was  in  the  act  of  placing  symmetri- 
cally behind  these  a  soup-tureen  which  gave 
forth  an  appetizing  odour  of  cabbage  and  good 
broth. 

"You  must  be  starving,"  said  Neuberg;  and, 
indeed,  with  that  unknown  savour  in  his  nostrils, 
the  Duke  found  that  hunger  was  what  ailed  him 
most  for  the  moment.  "Your  bedroom  is  next 
door,  and  Hans  has  already  unpacked  for  you. 
Once  more,  Rochester,  welcome.  I  shall  be  glad 


Yotmg  April  123 

to  feel  myself  your  host  for  as  long  as  you  will 
call  yourself  my  guest." 

The  officer,  as  he  spoke,  made  a  little  bow. 
He  did  the  honours  of  his  bare  house  with  as 
courteous  a  grace  as  if  it  had  been  a  palace. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  two  sat  opposite  to 
each  other,  each  bending  over  a  thick  soup-plate, 
and  nothing  was  heard  but  the  play  of  spoons  and 
a  gentle  liquid  gurgle. 

The  Duke,  left-handed  for  the  nonce,  could  not 
wield  his  instrument  with  the  facility  of  his  en- 
tertainer. Neither  was  he  sufficiently  imbued 
with  the  customs  of  the  country  to  tuck  his  nap- 
kin under  his  chin  with  the  same  heart-whole  de- 
termination to  remove  all  external  anxiety  from 
the  mind.  But  he  echoed  Neuberg's  sigh  of 
satisfaction  when  the  last  spoonful  had  been  dis- 
posed of. 

"  Ah ! "  said  the  officer,  who  took  a  lengthy 
pull  at  the  tankard,  and  wiped  his  lips  with 
further  gusto,  "if  only  Spencer  were  here  now, 
what  a  jolly  party  we  should  be !  I  half  thought 
he  would  have  come  to  see  me  to-night ;  I  left  a 
message  for  him  as  I  rode  by.  Here,  Hans,  cut 
up  that  sausage  for  my  lord  Duke." 

The  Duke's  tongue  was  as  eager  to  taste  the 
unaccustomed  flavours  as  his  boyish  fancy  was  to 


124  Young  April 

discover  the  unaccustomed  scenes.  The  very 
oddness  of  them  added  to  their  charm.  To  drink 
the  amber  beer  out  of  lidded  tankards  was  in  it- 
self an  experience  delightful  after  the  ponderous 
course  of  vintages  he  had  been  systematically  put 
through  under  the  Smiley  guardianship. 

After  supper  the  guest  was  installed  in  the  hol- 
low of  the  armchair  sofa,  declining  to  smoke  him- 
self, but  watching  with  amusement  the  selection, 
the  filling  with  Canaster  (out  of  a  green  majolica 
cabbage  —  ominous  form  !),  and  the  careful  light- 
ing of  an  immense  meerschaum  pipe. 

Very  soon  his  host  became  enveloped  in  a 
pungent  cloud,  which,  if  hardly  fragrant  to  the 
Duke's  delicate  nostrils,  was  yet  grateful  to  his 
feelings  as  part  of  the  new  atmosphere. 

Neuberg,  now  seated  cross-legged  on  one  of  the 
narrow  chairs,  now  pacing  the  room  with  clicking 
spurs,  hands  behind  his  back,  entered  upon  a  most 
conversational  mood. 

"  When  I  have  had  my  smoke,"  said  he,  "  I 
shall  take  you  to  Spencer,  to  get  those  bandages 
of  yours  set  right  for  the  night." 

"Does  your  friend  practise  medicine  here?" 
asked  the  Duke. 

"He  practises,"  said  Neuberg,  with  a  shrug, 
"  as  much  as  he  ever  practised.  You  must  know, 


Young  April  125 

Rochester,  that  a  regular  physician,  looking  at 
tongues  and  feeling  pulses  for  a  fee,  he  never 
was.  Fancy  Spencer  running  for  the  fine  lady's 
morning  megrim,  or  for  the  Councillor's  evening 
indigestion  —  ha!  ha!  Preposterous!  He  will 
be  bound  to  nothing  but  his  own  mood.  If  you 
think  that  he  would  accept  as  much  as  house-room 
in  the  Palace,  you  are  mistaken.  But  the  King 
professes  to  like  originality,  and  it  is  his  fad  just 
now  to  try  and  collect  about  him  intellectual 
people.  The  King,"  pursued  the  officer  reflect- 
ively, and  his  alert  blue  eyes  clouded  with 
thought,  —  "  the  King  seems  at  a  white  heat  of  en- 
thusiasm for  his  adviser  —  long  may  it  last!  for 
while  it  lasts  it  must  do  good.  We  shall  have  to 
introduce  you  to  him  to-morrow.  I  think  you  will 
like  His  Majesty.  By  the  way,  not  a  word  about 
the  duel,  mind  you!  True  we  had  it  over  the 
border,  but  His  Majesty  has  a  score  of  edicts  about 
private  duelling,  and  juries  of  honour,  and  Mar- 
shals' courts,  and  it  will  not  do  to  flaunt  it  about 
that  I,  his  own  Equerry,  drew  my  sword  without 
his  special  sanction.  It  is  one  of  his  little  foibles 
to  like  to  have  a  finger  in  most  people's  pies  —  and 
when  kings  have  foibles,  you  know,  they  had  best 
be  humoured.  He  will  know  all  about  it,  of 
course,  and  so  will  everybody  else  here,  but  we 


126  Young  April 

shall  keep  up  a  polite  fiction,  if  you  please^  that 
you  have  had  a  tumble  from  your  horse,  Mr. 
Postilion." 

Rochester  assented  briefly.  There  fell  a  pause, 
while  his  host  scraped  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe 
and  polished  the  bowl  on  his  sleeve.  Then 
Rochester  broke  the  silence  with  a  question  : 

"  How  comes  it,"  he  asked,  "  that  you,  an  Aus- 
trian, are  in  this  alien  service?" 

Neuberg  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Oh,  we  are  nothing,  in  this  country,  if  not 
on  the  Imperial  model,"  he  made  answer.  "I 
was  in  the  Life  Guards  at  Vienna,  a  body  which 
His  Majesty,  on  his  accession  visit,  had  specially 
admired,  and  — "  He  smiled  suddenly.  "  In 
short,"  he  rattled  on,  "  the  King  here  wanted  some- 
one to  command  his  Trabans  with  suitable  dash 
and  gallantry,  and  I  was  the  man,  you  see.  On 
his  side,  His  Imperial  Majesty,  wishing  to  be 
pleasant,  was  willing  to  have  me  seconded.  I 
accepted  the  post.  Eva  had  an  engagement  in 
Milan ;  I  did  not  care  so  much  to  stop  in  Vienna ; 
and,  of  course,  I  never  rested  till  I  got  Spencer 
here  too.  And  there  you  have  the  story." 

After  another  pause,  he  went  on : 

"  Then,  you  see,  nothing  could  keep  poor  Eva. 
As  soon  as  her  engagement  was  terminated  at  La 


Young  April  127 

Scala,  she  managed  to  secure  another  almost  im- 
mediately here  —  much  to  my  regret." 

"  Why,"  cried  Rochester,  —  "  why  should  you 
regret  it?" 

"  Eh  ? "  rejoined  Neuberg ;  and  then  laughed 
and  echoed,  "  Why,  indeed  ?  Well,  what  say  you 
to  a  little  walk  as  far  as  our  philosopher's  lair 
before  we  think  of  sleep  ?  " 

The  two  young  men  crossed  the  empty  square, 
skirted  the  railings  of  what,  as  the  officer  informed 
his  companion,  was  the  Palace  courtyard,  passed 
sentries  who  saluted  the  Guardsman  with  alacrity, 
a  ceremony  which  tickled  the  Duke  with  a  feeling 
of  importance ;  he  glanced  up  at  the  vast  building 
across  the  paved  court  of  honour,  and  thought  it 
looked  cold  and  forbidding  enough.  They  turned 
down  a  side-street  which  ran  the  length  of  the 
Palace  gardens,  and  then  seemed  to  enter  suddenly 
upon  the  older  part  of  the  town,  which  was  like- 
wise the  poorer. 

The  foot-pavement  wavered  and  fell  away  be- 
neath their  feet,  and  the  gutters  ran  each  side 
with  villainous  smell.  The  houses  stooped  for- 
ward across  the  narrow  way,  almost  touching  at 
the  eaves  and  granting  but  a  ribbon  of  starlit  sky 
to  the  upturned  gaze.  They  looked  through  open 
wooden  shutters  into  poor  little  shops,  where  un- 


128  Young  April 

naturally  ugly  women  seemed  to  perform  dreadful 
rites  with  unknown  mediums  and  to  carry  on  trade 
in  gruesome  articles  of  food  by  the  light  of  dim 
tallow  candles. 

"  Heavens  ! "  said  the  Duke,  "  what  a  filthy 
neighbourhood  your  friend  seems  to  have  chosen ! " 
And  he  felt  his  English  stomach  rebel. 

"  Oh,"  said  Neuberg  serenely,  "  it  is  all  right 
when  once  you  are  through.  I  have  taken  the 
short-cut,  and  it  is  but  a  little  way." 

As  he  spoke,  a  cold,  fresh  wind  began  to  blow 
against  their  faces,  bearing  upon  its  wings  the 
vague  savour  of  timber  and  tar.  Rochester  saw  at 
the  end  of  the  narrow  alley  along  which,  with  his 
handkerchief  to  his  nostrils,  he  was  disgustedly 
picking  his  way,  the  glimmer  of  dancing  water  in 
the  starlight.  The  dim  distance  was  broken  by  a 
group  of  slender,  slowly  swaying  masts.  The 
night's  stillness  was  now  emphasized  by  the  creak 
of  spar  and  cordage  and  the  dull  lapping  of  a 
ceaseless  flow.  Involuntarily  he  hastened  his  pace 
to  leave  the  sordid  atmosphere  behind  him,  and 
involuntarily  also,  he  halted,  as  they  emerged  on 
to  a  little  quay,  to  enjoy  the  sense  of  space  and 
let  the  clean  air  play  about  him. 

A  row  of  ancient  burgher-houses  stood  well 
back  from  the  street,  behind  scattered  trees  of 


Young  April  129 

great  size ;  their  gabled  outlines  were  jagged 
against  the  sky.  Upon  the  other  bank,  as  far  as 
one  could  see  under  the  mysterious  star-shimmer, 
the  open  country  seemed  to  spread. 

"See,"  said  Neuberg.  (Rochester  looked,  and 
saw  a  steady  light  shining,  very  high  up,  out  of 
the  black,  silent  house-front,  some  fifty  yards 
away.)  Neuberg  went  on  musingly :  "  See,  there 
sits  Spencer,  burning  his  nightly  oil. 

" '  How  far  that  little  candle  throws  her  beams  I 
So  shines  a  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world,' 

as  he  would  say.  He  is  fond  of  quoting  your 
wonderful  Shakespeare,  'who  can,'  says  he,  'con- 
vince where  logic  fails,  and  expound  where  defini- 
tion falters.'  Yes,  there  is  his  little  lamp,  bless 
him !  It  is  not,  as  you  see,  a  fashionable  spot,  and 
our  richer  burghers  have  long  left  the  houses  their 
grandsires  built  to  artists  and  the  river  folk.  But 
Spencer  has  chosen  his  two  rooms  among  a  thou- 
sand. He  has  his  working-room  there,  where  you 
see  the  light  athwart  the  jutting  balcony,  upon  the 
west,  and  his  bedroom  upon  the  east,  both  as  high 
up  as  may  be,  so  that  no  glory  of  sunrise  or  sunset 
be  lost  to  him.  These  great  daily  events  of  the 
world's  life,  of  which,  he  says,  we  take  so  little 
heed,  are  his  most  harmonious  incentive  to  thought. 


130  Young  April 

And  then  there  is  the  tide  of  the  river  to  watch, 
'image  of  life,  always  flowing  onwards,  always 
coloured  by  its  surroundings,  always  the  same,  for 
all  it  seems  to  change.'  And  then,  being  human, 
and  full  of  the  milk  of  human  kindness  —  see,  I  can 
quote  your  Shakespeare,  too  —  it  pleases  him  in  the 
midst  of  his  solitude  to  hear  the  hum  of  cheerful 
labour  beneath  him.  This  is  the  corn-wharf,  you 
know,"  added  Neuberg,  "and  it  is  the  workers 
alone,  Spencer  says,  that  save  the  race  from  decay." 

The  Duke  stood  listening  in  the  darkness,  with 
the  stream  running  its  unknown  musical  course 
behind  him,  his  eyes  drawn  to  that  watching  light 
that  seemed  to  beckon  him  into  the  dark,  silent 
house.  He  was  as  one  groping  his  way  into  a  new 
land,  where  as  yet  there  was  no  light,  and  where 
the  people  seemed  mysteriously  different  from  any 
he  had  ever  known  in  his  own  walks  of  life.  Even 
Neuberg,  that  gay,  careless  soldier,  with  whom  he 
had  thought  to  stand  at  least  on  equal  footing, 
appeared  now  to  tread  upon  unknown  territory. 

"  Come,"  said  the  officer  at  last,  "  let  us  go  in 
and  hear  what  new  thought  our  friend  is  revolving 
under  that  lamp." 

And  the  Duke  followed,  feeling  singularly  ex- 
cited, diffident,  and  eager. 


XV 

"  Habe  nun,  ach  I  Philosophic, 
Juristerey  und  Medizin  .  .  . 
Durchaus  studirt,  mit  heissem  Beraiih'n. 
.  ***** 

Grau,  theurer  Freund,  ist  alle  Theorie, 
Und  griin  des  Lebens  gold'ner  Baum." 

GOETHE. 

NEUBERG  dived  into  one  of  his  pockets,  and 
produced  an  immense  key,  which  he  successfully 
introduced  into  the  lock  and  turned  with  a 
scrunch.  They  entered  and  stood  within  a  dim 
hall,  lit  by  the  veriest  flicker  of  a  lamp  sus- 
pended from  a  squat,  round  pillar.  It  flung 
swift  fantastic  shades,  and  leapt  and  fell  and 
leapt  again,  revealing  bare  winding  stone  stairs, 
wrought-iron  railings  crossed  in  design,  and 
three  great  doors  barred  and  padlocked. 

The  air  was  heavy  with  a  warm  and  not  unpleas- 
ant smell ;  it  seemed  thick  with  impalpable  atoms. 
A  dusty  bloom  lay  wherever  there  was  space  to  lie. 

While  Rochester  lingered  to  look  around,  his 
companion  pushed  on  with  the  indifference  of 
familiarity. 


132  Young  April 

"  Once,  no  doubt,"  said  he,  waving  the  key,  as 
his  foot  boldly  attacked  the  first  step,  "yonder 
rooms  held  jovial  enough  company,  and  master- 
burghers  feasted  and  drank  their  wine  in  one 
whilst  their  wives  and  daughters  span  and  em- 
broidered in  others.  Now  they  are  filled  from 
floor  to  ceiling  with  sacks  of  golden  grain  and 
snowy  flour,  among  which  the  rats  hold  revel 
—  by  night,  for  by  day  this  is  a  busy  scene. 
Keep  close  to  me,  Rochester,  there  is  no  light 
upon  these  two  landings.  Hold!  I  shall  strike 
a  match.  We  must  not  expose  that  arm  of  yours 
to  risk.  These  rooms,  you  see,  are  offices." 

He  raised  his  light  as  he  spoke,  and  Rochester 
caught  a  glimpse  of  more  padlocked  doors,  framed 
in  quaint  carvings  of  Cupids,  wreaths,  and  cornu- 
copise.  Following  Neuberg's  tiny  ray,  he  reached 
and  crossed  the  black  spaces  of  the  second  land- 
ing, and  mounted  in  the  wake  of  the  gaily  flying 
steps  to  the  third. 

"  Now  we  see  Spencer's  beacon,"  said  the  officer. 
And  he  extinguished  his  evil-smelling  little  sulphur 
torch. 

Rochester  breathed  hard  as  he  halted.  A  twin 
lamp  to  the  one  downstairs  hung  on  the  wall. 
A  visiting  card  was  nailed  to  the  first  door. 
"  ffiltcljael  Irtfjur  Spencer "  was  engraved  on  it  in 
Gothic  letters. 


Young  April  133 

More  he  had  not  time  to  observe,  for  Neuberg 
stamped  his  clinking  heels  together,  as  if  in  sig- 
nal, and  stood,  his  ear  bent,  listening,  smiling 
joyously  on  Rochester  the  while.  There  was  a 
second's  pause ;  then  the  door  opened,  and  a  man 
came  forth. 

"  Welcome  ! "  cried  a  genial  voice  in  English ; 
and  two  hands  were  outstretched  and  clasped  in 
return. 

"I  have  brought  the  friend,"  said  Neuberg, — 
"him  whom  I  wrote  to  you  about,  you  know  — 
the  youth  I  damaged  a  little  and  whom  you  have 
now  got  to  set  right." 

"  Ah,  I  know  "  —  with  an  undercurrent  of  good- 
natured  laughter.  "Come  in,  both  of  you;  you 
are  very  welcome." 

The  speaker  nodded  kindly  at  Rochester.  At 
the  same  moment  this  latter  found  himself  taken 
by  the  left  hand  and  led  into  the  room,  where, 
rather  bewildered,  he  took  the  chair  indicated, 
and  sat  looking  at  his  host,  all  other  feelings  for 
the  moment  lost  in  curiosity  and  surprise.  A 
thousand  fancy  portraits  had  he  drawn  of  this 
countryman  of  his,  but  not  one  of  them  had  ap- 
proached the  reality. 

This  was  a  man  whose  stature  did  not  at  first 
sight  seem  above  the  middle  height,  nor  whost 


134  Young  April 

frame  create  any  impression  of  unusual  breadth, 
yet  one  beside  whom  the  stalwart  Neuberg  himself 
seemed  almost  insignificant  —  a  man  cast  in  a 
generous  mould,  but  so  harmoniously  proportioned 
that  neither  height  nor  breadth  obtruded  upon 
notice.  Perhaps  it  might  have  been  the  spirit- 
ual strength  of  the  countenance  which  over- 
powered the  mere  physical  impression. 

For  it  was  a  noble  head,  set  nobly;  with  a 
cloud  of  dark  hair  receding  already  from  the 
dome  of  a  forehead  broad  and  high;  with  large, 
reposeful,  clean-carved  features.  The  mouth 
under  the  dark  moustache  was  as  sensitive  as  a 
woman's,  and  the  eyes 

Mr.  Spencer  had  been  exchanging  a  few  words 
apart  with  Neuberg,  but  now  he  looked  suddenly, 
with  a  kind  of  grave  searching,  at  his  visitor. 

Rochester  had  never  fallen  under  the  gaze  of 
such  eyes  before.  Mild,  beautiful  brown  eyes 
they  were,  shadowy  and  deep  with  thought; 
they  seemed  to  read  into  his  very  soul  and  rob 
his  will  of  the  power  of  resistance ;  he  felt  as  if 
all  his  personality  lay  bare  before  them,  and 
felt,  too,  what  a  poor,  everyday  personality  it 
was.  The  sensation  was  so  painful  and  so  un- 
usual that  the  young  man  grew  white ;  but  pres- 
ently the  other  smiled. 


Young  April  135 

"  Come,  my  boy,"  said  he  gaily,  "  and  let  us  see 
this  dreadful  wound." 

Instantly  the  Duke's  suspended  energies  ran 
free  and  warm  once  more :  it  was  as  if  he  had  been 
tested  and  accepted.  And  he  rejoiced,  completely 
forgetting  that  he  was  a  person  of  rank  and  im- 
portance, and  entitled  to  be  addressed  otherwise 
than  with  this  condescending  familiarity. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  he  said  in  a  voice  that  was 
well-nigh  humble.  And  Neuberg,  who  had  anx- 
iously watched  to  see  what  impression  the  new 
friend  would  create  on  the  old  one,  breathed  a  sigh 
of  relief,  and  came  forward  to  assist  the  patient. 

Dr.  Theophilus  Lehrnann's  fingers  had  been 
dexterous  enough  in  their  manipulation,  but  this 
new  physician  held  the  arm  and  raised  the  band- 
age with  a  touch  inconceivably  light  where  it 
acted,  inconceivably  soothing  where  it  rested. 
The  brown  eyes,  grown  keen,  were  bent  for  a 
second  on  the  wound  exposed. 

"  I  never,"  said  he  then,  "  saw  a  neater  cut,  or 
one  more  deftly  sealed."  Then  he  bade  the  boy 
play  with  his  fingers  on  the  table,  and  looked  up 
at  Neuberg. 

"  But  had  your  blade  gone  but  the  tenth  part  of 
an  inch  higher,"  he  added,  "your  friend  would 
never  have  used  that  hand  again." 


136  Young  April 

"  Oh,  Lord ! "  said  Neuberg,  to  whom  a  sword- 
cut  (and  lie  had  experienced  some  himself),  if  it 
did  not  kill,  had  always  seemed  such  a  simple 
affair. 

"  Never  look  so  concerned,"  said  Spencer ;  "  for 
if  we  had  to  trouble  about  the  might-have-been  in 
life,  man's  responsibilities  would  indeed  assume 
terrible  proportions.  Wait  a  moment  till  I  get 
some  bandages  from  the  cupboard." 

With  his  arm  extended  in  the  place  cleared  for 
it  amid  the  litter  of  paper  and  books  upon  the 
table,  Rochester,  freed  from  the  compelling  pres- 
ence of  his  host,  was  able  to  devote  some  attention 
to  his  room. 

It  was  as  bare  as  Neuberg's  own  quarters  of  all 
luxury  of  furniture,  but  walled  with  books  that 
were  heaped  along  rough  shelves  without  any 
attention  to  symmetry  or  even  order.  Bare  were 
the  boards  to  the  feet,  uncurtained  the  windows, 
now  black  against  the  night.  In  a  corner  was  a 
high  desk  at  which  to  work  standing ;  manuscripts 
lay  upon  it,  and  a  great  worm-eaten  book.  On  all 
sides,  pinned  to  the  wainscot  like  so  many  butter- 
flies, were  little  scraps  of  paper  scrawled  with 
notes.  Nevertheless,  in  acute  contrast  with  this 
ascetic  plainness,  several  pictures  of  heterogeneous 
character  but  of  unmistakable  merit  hung  on  the 


Young  April  137 

walls.  A  seascape  of  Backhuysen's,  an  old  en- 
graving of  the  vision  of  St.  Helena,  a  curious 
water-colour  of  birds  wildly  driven  before  a  storm, 
a  Romney-like  portrait  of  a  beautiful  woman.  On 
the  oilskin-covered  table,  among  the  shabby  books 
and  loose  sheets,  stood  a  bronze  inkstand  of  ex- 
quisite workmanship,  fit  for  a  King's  escritoire, 
and  beside  it  a  seal  wrought  in  gold  and  ivory 
that  a  Queen  might  find  pleasure  in  handling. 

More  perplexed  than  ever  by  his  observations, 
the  Duke  now  turned  to  scrutinize  once  more  his 
new  acquaintance  as  the  latter  re-entered  the 
room.  The  same  anomaly  seemed  to  exist  in  his 
appearance  as  in  his  surroundings.  He  wore  a 
loose  cashmere  dressing-gown ;  his  shirt,  of  finest 
and  whitest  linen,  hung  carelessly  open  at  the 
neck  with  frayed  collar  ends  and  loosely  knotted 
tie.  The  wide  trousers  were  gathered  round  the 
waist  with  a  sash  of  black  silk ;  but  that  they  had 
been  cut  by  a  master  of  his  art  they  still  testified 
at  every  fold.  The  feet,  arched  and  slender, 
moved  in  faded  crimson  babouches. 

Rochester  wondered,  felt  disposed  to  criticise, 
came  again  under  the  magnetic  glance,  and  again 
succumbed  to  the  power  of  the  charm. 

"  I  will  put  no  dressing  upon  a  wound  that  ia 
doing  its  own  work  so  well,"  said  Spencer,  begin- 


138  Young  April 

ning  his  task,  and  delicately  winding  the  strip  of 
linen  round  the  arm.  "  There  is,  I  always  hold, 
far  too  much  interference  with  the  vis  medicatriz 
naturae  in  our  systems.  In  a  week,  my  dear 
fellow,  I  will  remove  these  stitchings,  which,  I 
may  tell  you,"  he  added,  laughing,  "  will  be  by 
far  the  most  unpleasant  episode  of  your  honour- 
able transaction." 

"  Oh,"  said  Neuberg,  "  he  is  not  to  be  pitied,  I 
assure  you.  You  should  have  seen  how  Eva 
comforted  him." 

"Eva?"  cried  his  friend,  his  face  lighting. 
"  By  the  way,  she  sent  me  a  line  to-night,  asking 
me  to  go  round  to  her.  But  it  was  impossible,  for 
the  same  reason  that  I  could  not  go  to  you  —  and 
that  I  will  tell  you  by-and-by,  for  it  is  not  a  story 
one  can  lightly  introduce.  There,  young  duellist, 
I  have  done."  He  rolled  down  Rochester's  sleeve, 
and  replaced  the  arm  in  its  sling  with  his  velvet 
touch.  "Well,"  he  remarked,  "now  that  you 
have  had  your  wild-beast  fling  at  each  other,  each 
thirsting  to  destroy  a  life  that  a  little  further  ac- 
quaintance has  shown  capable  of  adding  a  value 
to  your  own,  confess  that  you  are  ashamed  of 
yourselves ! " 

"Quite  wrong,  Michael,"  responded  Neuberg, 
with  a  transient  show  of  pique ;  "  I  never  in  any 


Young  April  139 

way  thirsted  for  the  life  of  my  friend  there.  On 
the  contrary,  it  was  because  of  the  sympathy  he 
inspired  me  with,  and  my  admiration  for  his 
gallant  demeanour,  that  I  offered  him  the  chance 
of  a  decorous  encounter,  as  the  only  possible 
reparation  for  a  slight  bestowed  upon  him  in 
ignorance  of  his  quality.  There  was  nothing  of 
the  wild  beast  about  the  matter." 

"  Honourable  encounter !  Reparation ! "  repeated 
Spencer,  with  much  scorn. 

Meanwhile  the  Duke,  who  could  not  yet  bear 
any  allusion,  however  delicately  veiled,  to  the 
primary  cause  of  the  meeting,  and  who,  on  the 
other  hand,  felt  conscious  that  he  at  least  had  in- 
deed thirsted  for  Neuberg's  life  and  that  there  had 
undoubtedly  been  a  good  deal  of  the  wild  beast 
about  him,  sat  and  listened  in  great  discomfiture. 

"  Reparation !  Well,  I  hope  that  half  a  yard  of 
steel  edge  in  his  arm,  and  a  fortnight's  incon- 
venience, will  have  quite  compensated  the  Duke 
of  Rochester  for  any  f  injury  he  may  have  suffered 
at  your  hands.  And  if  that  blade  of  yours  had 
alighted  on  his  neck,  or  his  flank,  or  in  almost  any 
other  direction,  your  reparation  might  have  gone 
the  length  of  sending  him  at  once  to  the  next 
world.  No,  no,  Gustaf;  fighting  prompted  only 
by  the  brute  instinct  of  destruction  is  deplorable 


140  Young  April 

enough,  the  duel,  but  for  the  satisfaction  of  that 
nebulous  entity  the  'point  of  honour,'  is  a  mon- 
strous absurdity.  What,  sir,"  the  Philosopher 
went  on,  with  increasing  emphasis  as  he  warmed 
to  his  thesis,  —  "  what  ?  I  am  grievously  injured 
by  a  man,  and,  to  please  my  nice  sense  of  honour, 
I  am  to  find  satisfaction  in  giving  him  who  has 
done  me  that  very  injury  the  opportunity  of 
further  robbing  me  of  life,  or  at  least  of  maiming 
me,  and  of  generally  asserting  the  superiority  of 
his  position !  Don't  give  me  as  an  argument  that 
I  have  the  same  opportunity.  What  sense  of 
reparation  for  injured  honour  can  you  find  in  the 
chance,  the  luck,  the  alea  jacta,  of  sword-stroke  or 
hair-trigger  ?  Your  honourable  duels,  my  friends, 
are  merely  a  travesty  of  the  mediaeval  superstition 
concerning  trial  by  combat  under  the  judgment  of 
God."  He  paused,  and  looked  triumphant  defi- 
ance at  the  two  young  men.  Rochester  smiled 
faintly.  As  for  Neuberg,  he  was  now  contemplat- 
ing the  Philosopher  with  friendly  eyes  and  laugh- 
ing gently  to  himself. 

"What  is  the  use  of  your  going  on  in  that 
way  ?  "  said  the  officer.  "  Fighting  monstrous  ! 
Pooh !  you  know  as  well  as  all  good  men  do  that 
fighting  is  as  primary  a  law  as  loving.  Come, 
now,  what  about  those  American  experiences  of 
yours,  for  instance  ?  " 


Young  April  141 

Spencer,  who  had  opened  his  mouth  to  let  forth 
a  fresh  avalanche  of  theory,  paused  as  if  he  felt 
himself  taken  in  flank. 

"  We  are  talking  about  set  duels,"  he  said  at  last. 

"  Well,"  said  Neuberg  gravely,  "  things  being 
as  they  are,  I  should  much  like  to  know  what 
your  philosophy  would  propose  instead.  Now, 
would  that  gallant  youth  over  there,  and  I  here, 
be  the  excellent  good  friends  we  are  if  we  had  not 
had  our  misunderstanding  wiped  off  by  a  little 
personal  trial  of  luck  —  short  and  sweet,  as  you 
are  fond  of  saying?  Luck,  chance,  alea  jacta? 
Is  not  the  whole  of  life,  is  not  love  and  glory  and 
happiness  and  all,  ruled  in  this  world  by  cast  of 
die?  You  yourself  said  it,  only  the  other  day. 
Vogue  la  galere!  What  say  you,  Rochester?  I 
might  have  had  my  head  cloven,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  lucky  panelling  behind  it,  but  I  have  the 
pleasure  of  your  company  instead  —  good  luck! 
You  will  have  your  stitches  removed  by  a  philoso- 
pher ;  you  have  had  Eva's  nursing  —  a  good  throw 
of  dice,  admit ! " 

Spencer  could  not  help  smiling  before  this  all- 
human,  all-young  argument.  He  shook  his  ringer 
in  mock  despair  at  Neuberg,  and  then  changed 
the  subject. 

"  Ah,"  said  he,  "  Eva  I     And  how  is  that  pretty 


142  Young  April 

child?  and  how  stand  your  hopes  and  shares  in 
that  quarter  to-day  ?  " 

The  officer  had  risen,  and  was  pacing  the  room. 

"Poor  Beau-Sourire "  he  began;  but  sud- 
denly Spencer  got  up  also,  and  raised  his  hand. 

"Hush!"  he  said,  with  an  anxious  look,  and 
put  his  finger  to  his  lips.  At  the  same  instant 
there  came  from  the  inner  room  a  drowsy  little 
wail,  plaintive  and  pitiable  to  hear. 

"  There ! "  he  went  on  reproachfully,  putting 
down  his  pipe,  and  hurrying  to  his  bedroom. 
With  the  opening  door  the  cries  broke  clear  upon 
their  hearing. 

"A  cat  —  a  puppy!"  cried  Neuberg,  dashing 
after  him.  Then,  with  a  yell :  "  Lord  in  heaven, 
an  infant ! " 

"  There,  there,"  said  the  Philosopher  in  cooing 
tones;  "bring  me  the  lamp,  Gustaf.  See,  poor 
little  one,  it  has  not  even  a  shirt  to  its  back !  Do 
you  mind  not  smoking  for  a  while  ?  I  shall  have 
to  walk  it  to  sleep.  This  blanket  is  harsh  to  the 
tender  skin ;  we  will  provide  better  to-morrow." 

Dexterously  dandling  a  shapeless  bundle,  the 
tall  figure  marched  once  more  into  Rochester's 
line  of  vision.  Neuberg  follo'wed,  bearing  the 
lamp,  which  showed  his  countenance  distorted 
by  staring  amazement. 


Young  April  143 

Spencer's  face,  on  the  other  hand,  as  he  bent 
over  his  charge,  betrayed  nothing  but  infinite 
pity  and  benevolence. 

"See,"  said  he,  and  shifted  the  fold  of  the 
blanket  to  expose  a  wizened,  crumpled,  pink 
face,  no  larger  than  a  boy's  fist,  —  "  see  the  mys- 
tery of  life,  not  three  hours  old,  yet  craving  and 
striving  already  !  This  night,"  he  added,  "  I  have 
seen  death  and  birth." 

The  infant  wailed  again,  opening  a  cavernous 
mouth,  at  which  Rochester,  who  had  approached 
to  gaze  with  Neuberg,  drew  back  disgusted. 

"  Lord,"  said  he,  "  how  ugly  the  thing  is !  " 

"It  is  an  unusually  fine  child,"  said  Spencer 
rebukingly,  while  he  hushed  and  soothed  the 
small  piece  of  mortality  with  an  expert,  tender 
hand.  "  By  the  time  that  lusty  youth  will  be  a 
thing  of  the  past  for  us  all,  this  wailing  babe  may 
be  as  fair  a  woman  as  the  Eva  about  whom  you 
wise  young  men  fought.  This  small  citizen  of 
the  world  comes  into  it  with  as  many  rights  as 
you  have,  and  just  now  it  demands  to  be  fed. 
Gustaf,  look  here,  watch  those  sucking  lips ;  that 
is  Instinct  —  instinct  is  all  the  human  animal  need 
display  at  first.  To  think  that  a  soul  should  lie 
in  this  envelope !  to  think  that  men,  to  whom  God 
has  given  such  an  awful  power,  should  so  misuse 


144  Young  April 

it,  should  dare  create  new  lives  —  give  birth  and 
pass  their  way,  and  never  look  back  —  cast  their 
flesh  and  blood  upon  the  world,  heedless  whether 
it  be  only  to  draw  one  breath  and  die,  or  to  live 
on  to  suffer,  and  curse  the  unknown  progenitor ! " 

"But,  madman,"  cried  Neuberg,  at  last  burst- 
ing into  speech,  "how  come  you  .  .  .  with  a 
child  ?  Was  there  no  woman  to  whom  you  could 
have  given  it  ?  Spencer !  Spencer !  even  the  wisest 
may  have  fallen  into  folly  some  time,  but  is  it  not 
likely  that  you  have  been  imposed  upon  ?  " 

Spencer  raised  his  face  to  look  in  his  turn  with 
great  surprise  at  his  friend.  Then,  at  sight  of  the 
desperate  doubt  heralded  in  his  whole  appearance, 
in  his  starting  eyes  and  bristling  hair : 

"  Mercy ! "  cried  he,  in  the  tone  of  a  man  who 
in  very  testiness  makes  a  wilfully  absurd  accusa- 
tion ;  "  the  fellow  thinks  it  is  mine ! " 

Instantly  Neuberg's  brow  cleared  as  if  by  magic. 
Throwing  himself  back  into  his  chair,  he  fell  to 
laughing  to  himself  —  at  first  gently,  then  aloud 
and  boisterously. 

Spencer  held  him  for  a  second  or  two  under  a 
severe  eye,  with  no  other  effect  than  to  increase 
the  merriment.  Presently  he  himself  gave  way  to 
the  infection,  and  laughed  a  little,  but  grudgingly. 

The  Duke  sat  and  stared   at   them  both,  and 


Young  April  145 

thought  they  had  taken  leave  of  their  senses ; 
he  rubbed  his  eyes  and  wondered  if  he  were  not 
in  a  fantastic  dream.  His  host's  attention,  how- 
ever, was  soon  restored  perforce  to  the  infant. 
He  began  to  collect  sundry  little  household  uten- 
sils ;  measured  hot  water  from  the  singing  kettle 
into  a  china  cup ;  then  milk  from  the  jug,  and 
sugar ;  and  tasted,  and  added  again. 

Meanwhile  Neuberg,  with  spurred  feet  extended 
straight  before  him,  with  legs  like  an  open  com- 
pass, lay  back,  his  head  against  the  rim  of  his 
chair,  and  laughed  till  the  room  shook. 

"  Oh,  Spencer,"  cried  he,  with  the  tears  running 
down  his  cheeks,  "  you  will  be  the  death  of  me  !  " 

"  I  will  tell  you  one  thing,"  said  Mr.  Spencer, 
placing  a  spoon  in  the  cup  and  carrying  it  over  to 
the  table :  "  a  man  who  would  thus  cast  a  life  into 
the  world,  in  what  you  would  call  a  moment  of 
folly,  Master  Gustaf,  and  what  I  call  crime,  would 
be  the  last  to  do  what  I  am  doing  now.  I  have 
seen  to-night,  as  I  said,"  he  went  on,  with  a  yet 
graver  note,  "  Death  as  well  as  Birth  —  double 
mystery.  This  poor  waif  is  the  pivot  of  the  ad- 
venture that  kept  me  from  going  to  you.  But 
stay ;  until  this  delicate  operation  is  finished  you 
will  have  to  wait.  Where  Nature  fails,"  added 
Michael  Spencer,  deftly  tucking  his  handkerchief 


146  Young  April 

under  the  little  chin,  and  then  tilting  the  infant 
to  a  convenient  angle,  while  he  proceeded  to  in- 
sert the  half-filled  spoon  into  the  wailing  mouth, 
—  "  where  Nature  fails,  we  must  needs  then  have 
recourse  to  Art.  Ah,  the  poor  innocent ;  it  knows 
no  better,  and  therefore  accepts  what  it  gets ! 
There  the  philosophy  of  life  begins." 

The  three  heads  bent  eagerly  over  the  uncon- 
scious infant  philosopher.  There  was  a  moment's 
breathless  suspense,  presently  broken  by  a  gentle 
smacking  sound.  The  three  men  looked  at  each 
other,  much  relieved,  and  smiled. 

*  *  *  #  * 

There  came  along  the  quiet  quay  below  a  noise 
of  hurrying  hoofs  and  wheels,  which  grew  louder, 
and  presently  stopped  beneath  their  very  windows. 
The  next  instant  a  shrill  bell  pealed  through  the 
empty  house. 

"  My  God ! "  cried  Neuberg,  with  all  the  lover's 
prescience,  and  smote  his  forehead ;  "  here  comes 
Eva,  I'll  be  bound!" 


XVI 

"  I  have  a  speech  of  fire,  that  fain  would  blaze ! 

***** 

One  that  was  a  woman,  sir  ;  but,  rest  her  soul,  she's  dead." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

"  EVA,  probably,"  said  the  Philosopher,  without 
raising  his  head.  "I  sent  Mark  to  explain  why 
I  could  not  come.  Heaven  knows,"  added  he, 
chuckling  to  himself,  "  what  the  fellow  may  have 
told  her,  for  I  had  little  thought  to  spare  for  ex- 
planations just  then." 

Spencer  chuckled  again,  but  Neuberg  had  grown 
preternaturally  dark. 

"  I  will  send  her  away,"  he  said.  "  There  goes 
the  bell  again;  it  is  Eva.  Eva  does  not  like 
waiting." 

"Send  her  away?"  said  Spencer.  "Ay,  by 
all  means,  if  you  can.  But  if  she  insists  upon 
coming  in,  tell  her  that  I  shall  be  delighted  to 
see  her." 

"Spencer!"  said  Neuberg,  and  stamped  his 
foot,  "  do  you  know  how  late  it  is  ?  She  is  alone 
in  this  town;  it  is  the  very  first  night  of  her 


148  Young  April 

arrival.  Is  it  not  hard  enough  for  a  woman  in 
her  position  to  avoid  scandal?" 

"My  friend,"  said  Spencer,  with  the  same  im- 
movable placidity,  "  I  quite  agree  with  you ;  never- 
theless, if  I  know  Eva,  she  is  not  the  person  to  be 
kept  out  where  she  wishes  to  come  in.  There! 
pray  go  down,  like  a  good  fellow ;  she  will  break 
my  bell." 

Neuberg  bolted  out  of  the  room,  and  was  heard 
clattering  down  the  stone  stairs. 

"  He  is  perfectly  right,"  said  Spencer  then,  turn- 
ing to  the  bewildered  Duke  with  a  sweet  smile. 
"This  is  a  world  of  makeshifts,  and,  however 
absurd  its  trammels  may  be  to  us  individually,  it 
is  each  man's  duty  to  respect  the  conventions  of 
society.  Yes,  one  must  respect  the  conventions," 
pursued  the  Philosopher  cheerfully,  dandling  his 
foundling  as  he  spoke ;  "  but  as  Eva  is  not  likely 
to  do  so  to-night,  or  ever,  would  you,  like  a  good 
fellow,  put  another  log  or  two  on  the  stove  and 
just  push  that  armchair  near  to  it?  We  must  get 
this  fair  lady  a  cup  of  tea." 

Ascending  steps  were  now  audible  without,  the 
rustle  of  a  silk  gown  and  the  click  of  spurs ;  and 
Eva's  voice,  raised  and  plaintive,  echoed  hollowly 
up  to  them.  Neuberg  seemed  to  speak  soothingly, 
but  with  little  effect. 


Young  April  149 

"  Tell  me  nothing,"  she  was  heard  crying  as  she 
reached  the  landing ;  "  you  men  are  all  alike.  (Is 
this  the  way  ?  Oh,  I  see,  I  see  ! )  What  are  we 
poor  women  to  do  ?  We  set  a  man  upon  a  ped- 
estal and  think  ourselves  not  worthy  to  kiss  his 
feet,  and  one  fine  day,  behold!  the  god  is  but 
common  clay  after  all !  " 

The  door  swung  back  and  Eva  stood  before 
them,  flushed,  tears  brimming  in  her  eyes,  her  lip 
trembling. 

"  Ah,  Spencer,"  said  she,  "  what  a  meeting ! " 

Spencer  turned  to  her,  shifted  his  bundle  over 
his  shoulder  in  the  knowing  way  that  nurses 
practise,  and,  coming  forward,  bowed  with  a 
courtly  grace  and  raised  the  singer's  inert  hand  to 
his  lips. 

"  Come,  come,"  said  he,  "  what  is  the  matter 
with  you  ?  This  is  an  excellent  meeting  of  four 
good  friends.  Shall  this  poor  innocent  spoil  it  ?  " 

Eva  impatiently  dashed  the  tears  from  her  eyes, 
and  gave  a  long  earnest  look  at  the  speaker.  He 
bore  it  unmoved,  smiling  back  at  her  and  still 
dandling  the  blanket  with  a  sublime  unconscious- 
ness of  absurdity. 

"Here,"  said  she  suddenly,  "give  me  that 
child !  Your  servant  is  a  fool,  Spencer,  and  I'm 
a  fool  too," 


150  Young  April 

"  Ay,"  said  Spencer,  "  take  it,  take  it  I  I  love 
to  see  a  woman  hold  a  child." 

She  gathered  the  bundle  to  her  arms  with  the 
inimitable  mother-gesture,  and  pressed  it  to  her 
virgin  bosom,  which  still  heaved  like  the  sea- 
waves  over  which  the  storm  has  passed. 

"  Poor  little  fright ! "  she  said,  and  looked  down 
at  it.  She  caught  from  under  her  long  lashes  the 
tender  admiration  of  Spencer's  gaze,  and,  half  with 
the  actress's,  half  the  woman's  instinct,  held  it  and 
hushed  it,  and  fell  to  pacing  the  floor,  singing 
below  her  breath  an  old  plaintive  lullaby,  and 
smiling  at  Spencer  over  her  shoulder  as  she 
passed. 

The  three  men  watched  her,  each  affected  in  his 
own  manner  and  degree  by  the  charm  of  that 
most  exquisite  picture,  as  old  as  love  in  the  world 
and  as  eternally  new  to  every  man's  heart  —  the 
woman  and  the  child. 

Neuberg's  eye  was  furtive  and  dark  with  con- 
flicting passions;  Rochester's  wistful  as  that  of 
one  who  dimly  perceives  some  elusive  vision  of 
beauty.  But  Spencer's  full  glance  was  bright 
with  ample  understanding,  complete  satisfaction. 

"  It  sleeps  already,"  said  Eva.  "  Fie  !  the  poor 
ugly  little  worm !  Where  did  you  pick  that  up, 
Spencer?  And,  amongst  your  eccentricities,  do 


Young  April  151 

you  propose  to  start  an  orphan  asylum?  If  so, 
you  may  engage  me  as  a  matron,"  she  added  as  an 
afterthought. 

She  took  her  seat  in  the  leather  armchair  and 
let  the  sleeping  infant  lie  upon  her  knee. 

"  Alas !  "  said  Spencer,  "  it  is  a  very  common 
story,  and  a  shame  to  humanity  that  it  should  be 
so  common  !  As  I  was  strolling  by  the  river-side 
this  evening,  watching  my  sunset  fade,  and  think- 
ing to  myself  what  a  beautiful  world  this  was,  all 
said  and  done,  I  heard  a  moaning  near  me.  It 
came  from  a  shed,  deserted  at  night,  where  the 
'  bargemen  keep  their  sacks.  I  went  in,  groping, 
thinking  to  find  some  hurt  dog,  but  found  —  a 
human  being.  '  Oh,  the  cry  did  knock  against 
my  very  heart ! '  I  laid  my  hand  on  rough  long 
hair,  and  knew  it  was  a  woman.  She  was  past 
all  speech.  I  felt,  though  I  could  not  see,  that 
she  was  in  extremity.  I  ran  out,  cursing  the  dark- 
ness which  might  cost  a  human  life,  spied  a 
lantern  at  the  landing-port,  tore  it  down  —  illegal 
act  for  which  I  shall  no  doubt  be  fined  to-morrow 
—  and  flew  back  to  my  shed.  There  I  saw  that 
there  was  not  only  one  life  at  stake,  but  two  ;  and 
it  needed  not  my  doctor's  experience  to  make  me 
aware  that,  though  I  might  save  the  one,  the  other 
was  beyond  human  aid.  The  poor  creature,  ft 


1 52  Young  April 

young  thing,  too  young  for  maternity  at  all  — 
much  less  for  such  maternity  as  this,  which  drove 
her  like  an  animal  into  the  first  deserted  hole  to 
battle  through  her  agony  alone  —  it  was  best  for 
her !  She  seemed  of  the  better  class,  poor  wench ! 
and  had  fought  her  battle  against  shame  with  a 
pluck  that  cost  her  her  life,  whilst  he  —  the  man 
—  some  gallant  young  buck,  no  doubt —  Well, 
I  saved  the  child,  at  least.  When  she  —  the 
mother  —  heard  it  cry,  she  just  found  strength  to 
turn  her  languid  head.  You  have  seen,  all  of  you, 
how  the  dumb  mother,  cat  or  dog,  looks  when  you 
take  up  her  little  one.  Such  a  look  had  she,  and 
yet  a  different  one  ;  for  the  whole  human  soul 
spoke  in  that  poor  eye.  I  took  her  hand  in  mine ; 
it  was  Death's  already.  '  Whoever  you  are,'  said 
I,  'your  child  shall  be  kindly  cared  for.'  She 
stared  at  me  for  a  few  seconds.  Her  hand  closed 
on  mine  slowly,  and  then  I  said  again:  'Rest, 
poor  child ;  your  God  will  surely  be  less  hard  on 
you  than  man  has  been.'  I  think  she  died  then, 
but  I  knelt  beside  her  and  held  her  hand  some 
time  longer,  that,  as  far  as  possible,  she  might  feel 
some  human  fellowship  upon  the  awful  loneliness 
of  her  passage." 

The   Philosopher,   hia   face  kindled  to  leonine 
anger,  fell  to  pacing  the  room. 


Young  April  153 

Eva  turned  her  head  away,  that  her  tears  might 
not  fall  upon  the  cheek  of  the  child. 

"  Was  there  ever  such  a  man  ?  "  said  Neuberg, 
beaming  round  upon  his  friend.  "And  he  goes 
and  brings  that  babe  here  to  his  rooms,  as  if  it  were 
the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world." 

"  But,  come,"  said  the  Philosopher,  "  what  else 
could  be  done?  I  do  not  know  anyone  yet  to 
whom  I  could  entrust  it.  I  shall  look  for  an 
honest  mother  to-morrow  who  will  allow  the  waif 
to  share  for  a  while  the  kingdom  of  some  lawful 
young  prince.  Meanwhile  the  creature  wants  but 
little." 

"  And  is  the  poor  young  mother  lying  dead  out 
in  the  cold  near  the  river  ?  "  asked  Eva,  with  a 
shudder ;  and,  as  she  spoke,  she  caught  the  warm 
living  thing  to  her,  lifted  the  little  curling  hand 
to  her  lips  and  kissed  it.  "  Poor  thing !  poor 
thing ! "  she  said,  "  and  did  I  say  it  was  an  ugly 
little  worm  ?  Heaven  forgive  me  ! " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Philosopher,  resuming  his  tramp 
and  his  gravity,  after  a  moment's  smiling  contem- 
plation, —  "  yes,  the  dead  clay  lies  out  there.  But 
what  of  that  ?  Would  it  lie  softer  under  a  Queen's 
catafalque?  Poor  daughter  of  Eve,"  he  said; 
"  she  paid  dearly  for  the  brief  pleasure  of  plucking 
her  apple !  Yes,  she  lies  there,  unless  they  have 


154  Young  April 

removed  her.  I  ordered  that  clown  of  mine  to 
give  information  to  the  authorities  that  be.  I 
have  heard,"  he  went  on,  after  a  musing  pause, 
"young  men  boast  of  such  'conquests.'  I  have 
also  seen  an  Indian  brave  with  the  bloody  scalps  of 
a  woman's  long  fair  hair  and  a  child's  curls  hang- 
ing from  his  belt.  Him,  at  least,  I  could  shoot 
down,  and  did ! "  His  eye  fell  upon  the  Duke's 
awestruck  countenance  as  he  spoke,  and,  with  a 
sudden  change  of  tone,  "That  boy  looks  tired, 
Neuberg,"  he  said ;  "  take  him  home,  and  let  him 
sleep." 

Eva  rose. 

"  I  must  go,  too,"  she  said ;  "  but,  by  your  leave, 
I  will  take  this  thing  home  with  me.  It  comes, 
at  least,  more  natural  to  a  woman  to  have  the  care 
of  such  little  plagues." 

But  here  Neuberg  bounded  forward  with  up- 
lifted forbidding  hand. 

"  Ah,  no,  this  at  least  passes  all  bounds !  Eva, 
have  you  finally  taken  leave  of  your  senses  ?  " 

Spencer  slightly  bent  towards  her,  gathered  the 
child  back  to  his  arms,  and,  with  a  smile  and  a 
nod,  disappeared  with  it  into  the  next  room.  It 
was  like  a  prince  dismissing  his  circle.  He  came 
back  in  a  moment  and  assisted  Eva  with  her  furs. 

"  You  had  not  even  a  cup  of  tea,"  he  said ;  "  I 
fear  I  am  but  a  churlish  host." 


Young  April  155 

"You  gave  me  better,"  she  replied,  her  dove 
eyes  very  sweet  and  her  voice  thrilling  with  a 
deep  chord. 

"  As  for  you,"  continued  Spencer,  laying  his 
hand  for  a  moment  on  the  Duke's  pulse,  —  "  you 
will  be  feverish  to-night.  Give  him  hot  lemonade, 
Gustaf.  If  lemons  cost  but  a  guinea  apiece,  how 
men  would  value  them  I  Good-night  to  you  all." 


Neuberg  folded  Eva  into  her  carriage  with  a 
sort  of  tender  disapproval.  Her  last  look  was  for 
the  Duke's  young  face,  pale  in  the  light  of  the 
coach-lamps. 

"  If  you  let  him  get  fever,  Neuberg,"  she  said, 
"  I  will  come  and  nurse  him  again ;  so  now  you 
are  warned !  " 

"  It  is  no  use,"  said  the  Guardsman,  when  the 
wheezing  hackney-coach  had  borne  her  away  into 
the  darkness, — "it  is  no  use;  it  will  never  be  any- 
thing better  than  friendship,  and  friendship  be- 
tween man  and  woman  is  a  damned  and  hollow 
mockery." 

He  took  his  companion  by  the  elbow,  and  moved 
forward  with  him.  Rochester  halted  a  moment 
before  turning  from  the  quay  and  looked  back  at 
the  lighted  window  in  the  gable. 


156  Young  Aprtt 

"  What  do  you  say  ?  "  asked  Neuberg. 

"  Oh,"  said  the  young  Englishman,  rousing  him- 
self from  an  abstraction,  "  I  did  but  repeat  a  line 
of  yours  which  hangs  in  my  memory : 

" '  So  shines  a  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world.' " 


XVII 

"  He  of  their  wicked  ways 
Shall  them  admonish,  and  before  them  set 
The  ways  of  righteousness." 

MILTON. 

THE  bloom  of  early  day  lay  yet  unbrushed  upon 
the  world  as  Neuberg,  whistling  softly  to  himself, 
emerged  from  his  house,  and,  setting  his  face  for 
the  old  town,  clanked  gaily  through  the  awaken- 
ing streets  on  his  way  again  to  Spencer's  rooms. 

He  looked  as  pink,  as  fresh,  and  as  gay  as  the 
spring  morning  itself ;  the  joy  of  the  youth  of  the 
year  and  of  the  day  seemed  to  have  got  into  his 
blood.  The  world  seemed  to  lie  before  him  for 
the  treading  of  his  feet,  and  the  heavens  above  so 
near  him  that  he  need  only  reach  up  his  arm  to 
pluck  from  them  his  own  particular  unattainable 
star. 

Like  the  purple  down  upon  the  grape,  delicate 
mists  hung  over  the  distance ;  in  the  square  gar- 
den the  jewelled  dew  lay  thick  on  grass  and  leaf; 
the  air  was  tremulous  with  bells  that  rang  from 

157 


158  Young  April 

spires  scintillating  like  gems  in  the  vague  blue, 
calling  the  devout  to  prayer,  the  scholar  to  his 
desk,  the  toiler  to  the  yoke  of  the  curse  that  has 
become  the  blessing  of  men. 

The  river  ran  molten  copper  from  east  to  west. 
Over  the  jutting  balcony  Spencer's  windows  were 
flung  wide  open  to  the  breeze  and  to  the  light. 

"  What  a  man  ! "  said  Neuberg.  "  However 
early  I  may  be,  he  is  always  earlier.  I  wonder," 
he  thought,  and  laughed  aloud  as  he  sprang  up 
the  stone  stairs,  two  at  a  time,  past  the  old  grain- 
laden  rooms  now  open  and  beginning  to  hum  with 
life,  "what  sort  of  a  night,  poor  fellow,  he  has 
had ! " 

The  full  note  of  his  friend's  voice,  raised  in 
didactic  cadence,  reached  him  through  the  open 
door,  as  he  paused  to  draw  breath  on  the  third 
flight. 

He  looked  in  and  laughed  again.  The  Philoso- 
pher in  his  shirt-sleeves,  with  a  boot  over  one  hand 
and  a  blacking-brush  in  the  other,  stood  vigorously 
applying  the  one  to  the  other.  He  bent  an  earnest 
countenance  to  the  work  and  the  while  spoke  im- 
pressively but  kindly  to  the  bullet-headed,  thickset 
clown,  who,  sitting  on  a  straw-bottomed  chair, 
watched  his  master's  proceedings  with  a  sly  grin. 

As  Neuberg  listened  and,  unobserved  himself, 


Young  April  159 

observed,  his  smiling  lips  contracted  and  his  eye 
grew  stern. 

"  Of  course,  you  may  say  to  yourself,"  Spencer 
was  explaining,  "  that  a  little  less  or  a  little  more 
shine  on  a  pair  of  boots  is  but  a  trivial  matter.  But 
you  must  remember  that  to  put  a  shine  upon  those 
boots  is  your  Duty — as  much  your  duty,  in  your 
path  of  life,  my  good  fellow,  as  it  is  the  sentry's 
duty  to  keep  the  best  watch,  or  the  King's  to  give 
his  best  thought  to  his  people's  welfare.  Thus, 
there  are  no  trivial  duties.  And  so  each  of  us 
must  serve  our  master  to  our  best  endeavour,  that 
each  may  help,  in  our  degree,  to  the  good  order  of 
the  whole.  You  understand  me,  Mark,  do  you 
not?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Mark ;  and  his  grin  broadened. 

Neuberg  clenched  his  hand. 

"  Even,  then,  in  the  polishing  of  a  pair  of  boots," 
proceeded  Spencer,  after  pausing  an  instant  to  put 
a  small  fresh  dab  of  blacking  on  the  toe,  "a  man 
may  reach  to  the  highest  dignity  of  manhood  — 
the  dignity  of  work  well  done.  For,  mark  you, 
there  is  a  right  and  a  wrong  way  of  working. 
You  have  only  got  to  compare  that  boot,  which 
you  would  have  been  content  to  let  your  master 
put  on,  to  this  one  "  —  surveying  the  now  shining 
leather,  with  head  on  one  side.  "  But,  of  course, 


160  Young  April 

the  first  thing  is  to  learn  how  to  set  about  it.  No 
one  can  read  who  has  not  learnt  his  letters.  You 
have  been  watching  me,  I  hope  ?  " 

Here  the  Professor's  eye  fell  a  little  doubtfully 
upon  his  servant's  unintelligent  visage. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Mark,  without  budging  from  his 
seat,  or  making  any  attempt  to  stifle  the  yawn  that 
overtook  him. 

Immediately  something  terrible  sprang  at  him 
from  behind  with  ferocious  leap  —  something  that 
clanked  and  stamped  and  flashed  blue  and  silver. 
He  was  clutched  unkindly  by  the  nape  of  the  neck, 
shaken  till  his  teeth  rattled,  propped  up  only  to 
present  an  unprotected  surface  to  an  unmerciful 
knee,  propelled  through  space,  dashed  into  jarring 
collision  with  the  floor  of  the  passage,  and  pelted 
by  an  avalanche  of  imperfectly  polished  boots  — 
boots  that  were  hailed  upon  him,  it  seemed,  with  a 
diabolical  knowledge  of  the  tenderest  corners  of 
his  anatomy. 

"  Cattle  ! "  thundered  a  voice  from  above. 

Apparently  Mark  had  already  recognized  the 
hand,  the  knee,  and  the  tone,  for,  without  ventur- 
ing to  look  up,  he  rubbed  his  bumps,  and  whim- 
pered : 

"  Ow,  ow,  ow,  Herr  Rittmeister ! " 

Here  he  dodged  the  blacking-brush. 


Young  April  161 

"  Look  here,  swine-hound :  polish  all  those  boots 
as  you  know  how — and  sharp  .  .  .  or  I  shall  try 
the  effect  of  a  little  more  rubbing  up  of  your  wits ! 
'Understand?" 

"  Good  heavens,  Gustaf !  .  .  .  Gustaf !  mad- 
man ! " 

Spencer,  half-indignant  at  this  indignity  offered 
to  manhood,  yet  unable  to  repress  his  laughter, 
flung  his  arms  round  his  friend,  and  drew  him, 
still  foaming  at  the  mouth,  into  the  room  again. 

"  And  to  think,"  said  Neuberg,  with  a  stamp  and 
an  oath,  "  that  I  gave  you  my  own  fellow,  to  make 
sure  that  you  should  be  well  served !  " 

"  My  good  Gustaf,  these  are  your  soldier's  ways. 
Mark  is  a  good  fellow  at  main,  but  he  is  a  little 
stupid.  One  must  have  patience,  and  —  what  the 
devil !  —  we  must  all  be  taught." 

"  Taught !  "  echoed  Neuberg,  with  his  stentorian 
laugh.  "  Teach  a  Rider  Guard  how  to  polish  a 
boot !  My  poor  friend,  with  your  philosopher's 
ways,  you  will  have  always  to  polish  your  own 
boots  in  this  world,  I  fear,  and  pay  another  man 
for  looking  on  with  his  tongue  in  his  cheek.  Lis- 
ten to  him  —  just  listen  to  that !  " 

From  the  landing  without  a  sound  like  the 
mighty  rush  of  an  autumn  wind  through  forest- 
trees  fell  rhythmically  upon  their  ears. 


1 62  Young  April 

"  If  those  boots  are  not  red-hot  in  five  minutes, 
and  shining  enough  to  reflect  the  scamp's  own 
ugly  phiz,  I'll  know  the  reason  why,"  added  Neu- 
berg  vindictively. 

Spencer's  countenance  suddenly  altered  from  its 
expression  of  genial  indulgence.  He  went  to  the 
door,  bent  his  ear  to  listen  for  another  moment, 
then  he  burst  out  upon  the  landing  with  as  much 
violence  as  the  Captain  himself  had  displayed  but 
a  few  moments  before. 

With  one  boot  before  him  already  shining  with 
unsurpassable  lustre,  Mark  was  at  work  upon 
another  with  such  energy  as  not  even  to  perceive 
his  master's  tempestuous  advent. 

"  So,"  cried  the  Philosopher,  his  voice  ringing 
between  extremes  of  sorrow  and  wrath,  —  "  so, 
Mark,  I  have  found  you  out,  have  I  ? " 

"  What ! "  roared  Neuberg ;  "  is  he  not  working 
after  all?" 

"  He  is,  he  is,"  said  Spencer ;  "  and  that  is  just 
it !  Neuberg,  you  don't  know  all  I  have  done  for 
this  fellow.  Ignorance  one  excuses,  forgetfulness 
one  forgives,  incompetency  one  tolerates,  but  bad 
will,  bad  will,"  cried  the  Philosopher,  his  voice 
rising,  "  to  a  master  like  me,  is  a  crime !  Infinitely 
better  to  wait  upon  myself  all  the  rest  of  my  life 
than  to  harbour  such  a  cur.  Go,  pack  your  trunk, 
sir!" 


Young  April  163 

Mark  looked  up,  bewildered,  at  his  master,  then 
back  at  the  boot  he  was  holding,  and,  conscious  that 
for  the  first  time  in  his  new  service  he  merited 
praise  and  not  blame,  cried  with  a  loud  aggrieved 
sniff  that  he  could  not  do  the  boots  any  better  not 
if  it  were  for  His  Majesty  himself. 

"  Silence,  knave  ! "  cried  Neuberg,  interrupting 
Spencer,  as  the  latter  opened  his  mouth  for 
another  burst  of  wounded  feelings  ;  "no  more  of 
your  pranks  here  if  you  wish  Mr.  Spencer  to  for- 
give you.  And,  mind  you,  I  have  my  eye  upon 
you." 

It  was  now  his  turn  to  drag  his  friend  back  into 
the  room. 

"  Come,  come,  Spencer  dear,"  said  he,  relapsing 
into  English;  "we  know  that  the  rogue  is  an 
honest  rogue,  so  be  content.  He  is  as  good  as  you 
will  ever  have,  with  your  incorrigible  theory  that 
all  men  have  souls." 

"If  the  fellow  had  loved  me,"  began  Spencer, 
"  he  would  have  tried  to  please  me." 

"  Pooh  !  "  said  Neuberg,  balancing  his  foot  with 
unconscious  significance  ;  "  loved  you,  you  inno- 
cent !  He  will  try  to  please  you  in  future,  an  I 
mistake  not,  because  he  knows  the  weight  of  my 
displeasure." 

Here  he  burst  out  laughing,  and,  after  a  slight 


164  Young  April 

hesitation,  the  Philosopher  joined  in  the  merri- 
ment. 

"  Good  heavens ! "  cried  Neuberg,  suddenly 
growing  very  serious;  "I  forgot.  What  have 
you  done  with  the  little  worm  ?  " 

Spencer's  face  became  illumined  as  with  pleas- 
ant recollections. 

"  She  slept  like  a  flower,"  said  he,  "  and  at  dawn 
this  morning  a  messenger  comes  from  my  baker  to 
say  that  his  poor  infant  had  had  convulsions  and 
was  dead,  and  would  I  come  and  compose  the  wife. 
Well,  there  were  two  good  things,  Neuberg,  for 
the  baker's  child,  if  it  had  lived,  would  have  been 
an  idiot.  I  had  treated  it  —  it  was  a  hopeless 
case ;  and  my  baker's  wife  has  a  strapping,  healthy 
body,  and  a  tender  heart.  Here  were  a  childless 
mother  and  a  motherless  child ;  the  wails  of  both 
were  silent  when  I  left  them,  deeply  occupied  with 
each  other." 

"  By  the  way,"  said  the  officer,  "  that  reminds 
me :  have  you  breakfasted  ?  —  for  I  have  not.  It 
is  a  lovely  day;  shall  we  go  forth?  My  duty 
only  begins  at  nine." 


xvni 

"  A  violet  in  the  youth  of  primy  Nature, 
Forward,  not  permanent,  sweet,  not  lasting, 
The  perfume  and  suppliance  of  a  moment ; 
No  more."  SHAKESPEARE. 

IN  the  thick,  heavy  white  cups  the  coffee  was 
fragrant;  under  their  fingers  the  long  roll  broke 
crustily,  still  steaming  from  the  oven.  The  charm- 
ing freshness  of  the  morning,  as  the  Guardsman 
and  the  Philosopher  sat  outside  the  little  cafe  in 
a  streak  of  sunshine,  pale-yellow  still,  gave  to  their 
fare  that  matchless  zest  which  belongs  to  open- 
air  meals. 

The  hum  of  the  busy  town  was  already  at  its 
height.  Determined  housewives,  followed  by  bare- 
armed  maids  with  baskets,  hurried  past  them  to 
the  market-place  round  the  corner ;  smiling  house- 
wives hurried  away,  discussing  their  bargains  as 
they  went ;  squads  of  soldiers,  as  untidy  in  their 
forage  kit  as  they  would  be  spruce  later  on  in  the 
day,  trundling  in  their  hand-cart  the  day's  manage, 
stiffened  into  salutes  as  they  crossed  the  shadow 
of  the  handsome  officer ;  ever  and  anon  a  belated 

165 


1 66  Young  April 

country  waggon  high-laden  with  green  food,  slowly 
dragged  by  slavering,  patient-eyed,  noiseless-tread- 
ing oxen,  lumbered  by  with  shrieking  wheels,  or 
yet  a  little  drove  of  sheep  pattered  on  upon  their 
last  stage  but  one.  Bleatings  mixed  with  the 
plaintive  call  of  the  calf,  the  expostulations  of  pig, 
chicken,  or  duck,  the  deep  reflective  note  of  the 
draught-bullock.  And  above  all  rose  the  human 
clamour  —  cries  of  street- venders,  cries  of  stall- 
keepers,  out-screamings  of  bargaining  wives,  whis- 
tling, laughter,  anger,  persuasion;  and  the  jangle 
of  bells  far  and  near  —  some  grave,  some  gay, 
some  impertinently  obtrusive;  discordant  sounds 
most  of  them,  and  egotistic  in  their  personal  in- 
sistence, but,  taken  as  a  whole,  under  a  bright 
spring  sky,  a  very  symphony  of  social  life. 

The  Philosopher  tilted  his  green  wooden  chair 
and  lay  back*  smiling,  listening  and  noting. 

"  There  throbs  the  heart  of  the  town,  taking  in 
and  sending  forth  again  the  blood  of  its  life,"  he 
said. 

Neuberg  lifted  his  head  from  the  contemplation 
of  his  coffee-grounds  with  the  approving  glance  he 
always  had  ready  for  his  friend's  conceits. 

"  And  there  lies  the  brain,  I  suppose  you  would 
say,"  said  he,  jerking  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder 
in  the  direction  of  the  Royal  Palace. 


Young  April  167 

"  Fresh  flowers  .  .  .  fair  flowers ! " 

The  call  of  a  woman  clove  the  air  not  unmusi- 
cally in  the  interval  of  a  sudden  lull. 

"  I  think,"  said  Neuberg,  with  a  charming  little 
air  of  consciousness,  "  that  I  will  take  a  turn  by 
the  flower-stalls." 

"By  all  means,"  said  Spencer  placidly.  They 
paid  the  reckoning  for  their  frugal  repast,  and, 
arm  in  arm,  stepped  towards  the  market-place. 

As  gay  and  busy  to  see  as  to  hearken  to. 
Buyers  and  venders  moving  in  and  out  like  bees 
in  their  hives  or  ants  in  their  hills ;  shifting  hues 
of  orange  and  scarlet  on  peasant  heads  and  bosoms; 
the  flash  of  white  kerchiefs  and  aprons ;  the  gleam 
of  copper  and  tin  and  glazed  crockery ;  the  softer 
tints  of  roots  and  fruits  beneath  great  tent-like 
umbrellas  of  indigo  or  faded  green.  Indescribable 
odours,  too,  floating  in  the  air,  each  qualifying  or 
chasing  the  other ;  the  whiffs  of  wide  open  coun- 
try from  hay-lined  carts,  the  pungency  of  roasted 
coffee,  of  stored  apples  and  lemons,  of  cobblers' 
stalls,  and  the  abomination  of  the  pork-butcher's 
booth;  the  mixed  atmosphere  of  the  hencoops 
with  their  main  smell  of  musty  straw.  All  of 
which,  like  discords,  resolved  themselves,  as  the 
two  friends  halted  before  the  flower-stall,  into  a 
sudden  and  delicious  harmony.  Here  the  trestle 


1 68  Voting  April 

tables  were  impurpled  with  violets,  starred  with 
jonquils  and  primroses.  A  heap  of  hyacinths  sent 
forth  heavy  sweetness  from  a  corner. 

A  buxom  woman,  with  cheeks  as  hard  and 
round  and  rosy  as  the  best  preserved  apple  in  her 
neighbour's  hoard,  was  soon  engaged  in  filling  the 
officer's  hands  with  choice  blooms.  With  grave 
deliberation  he  wavered  long  between  the  claims 
of  the  single  narcissus  and  the  single  hyacinth, 
the  primrose  and  the  jonquil,  and  ended  by  com- 
pounding matters  and  buying  of  them  all.  The 
violets,  with  their  humble  mourning  hue,  their 
scent  lost  in  the  grosser  sweetness  of  their  waxen 
rivals,  failed  to  appeal  to  him. 

Turning  round  with  a  jubilant  air  to  show  his 
companion  the  bunch  which  it  took  two  hands  to 
hold,  he  found  him,  somewhat  to  his  surprise, 
fingering  the  little  purple  bunches  with  dreamy 
gaze.  The  surprise  was  still  greater  when  the 
man  of  abstractions  and  science  opened  his  mouth 
and  delivered  himself  in  the  following  manner: 
" '  O  Proserpina !  "  cried  he, 

"  '  For  the  flowers  now  that  frighted  thou  let'st  fall 
From  Dis's  waggon  !     Daffodils 
That  come  before  the  swallow  dares,  and  take 
The  winds  of  March  with  beauty ;  violets  dim, 
But  sweeter  than  the  lids  of  Juno's  eyes 
Or  Cytherea's  breath ' 


Young  April  169 

Oh ! "  he  went  on,  "  what  magic  inspired  that  poor 
play-actor,  that  he  should  have  known  how  to  sing 
every  man's  love  and  to  cry  out  every  man's 

sorrow  ?  — 

" '  violets  dim, 
But  sweeter  than  the  lids  of  Juno's  eyes  1 ' 

How  much  in  that  little  line !  Lover,  poet,  master 
of  hidden  music,  and,  withal,  what  an  observer ! 
You,  Gustaf,  all  enamoured  as  you  are,  I  will 
wager  that  you  have  never  noted  the  beauty  of  a 
beautiful  woman's  eyelids.  Look  at  these  violets 
— '  dim,  but  sweeter  than  the  lids  of  Juno's  eyes.' 
'  Sweeter ! '  Ah,  there  he  is  a  heretic  !  " 

At  this  point  the  Philosopher  fell  into  a  muse, 
gazing  at  the  flowers  in  his  hands. 

Open-mouthed,  with  starting  eyes,  Neuberg 
stared  at  him.  Spencer  sentimental!  Spencer 
with  lovelorn  look  and  tongue !  What  was  com- 
ing next  ? 

In  a  moment  his  friend  sighed  and  spoke  again. 

"Call  back  your  gentlest  memories,"  said  he, 
"  and  see  how  true  is  the  comparison.  There  is, 
moving  in  the  ways  of  the  world,  someone  I  know 
—  a  thing  of  fire  and  air  —  and  when  she  looks  at 
me  —  to  borrow  once  again,  if  not  from  the  words, 
from  the  thoughts  of  the  master  —  when  she  looks 
at  me,  I  could  wish  that  she  might  do  no  other 


170  Young  April 

thing,  because  of  the  fathomless  wonder  of  those 
eyes ;  but  when  they  are  cast  down  I  can  scarce 
wish  them  open  again,  for  the  sight  of  lids  as 
delicate  as  these  flowers,  as  faintly  purple  —  and 
as  sweet  (a  man  dare  think)  to  kiss." 

Saying  which,  Mr.  Spencer  absently  lifted  the 
posy  to  his  lips,  and  kept  it  pressed  thereto. 

Neuberg's  countenance  meanwhile  was  an  open 
field  for  the  conflict  of  most  diverse  emotions  — 
incredulity,  bewilderment,  amazement,  impetuous 
sympathy,  and  devouring  curiosity.  It  was  the 
last  that  conquered.  Nevertheless,  he  opened  his 
mouth  only  to  close  it  again  upon  the  unspoken 
question. 

"  Elusive,"  murmured  Mr.  Spencer,  freeing  his 
lips  to  speak;  "but  swoon  sweet.  Madame,"  said 
he  then,  bowing  ceremoniously  to  the  stall-woman, 
"  I  will  take  all  your  violets,  if  you  please,  if  you 
will  kindly  supply  me  with  a  basket  to  place  them 
in  and  have  them  sent  with  this  card  to  the  Grafin 
Lucena,  at  the  Palace." 

"Oh,  Cupid,  little  god  of  love!"  exclaimed 
Neuberg,  and  put  his  flowers  down  for  the  express 
purpose  of  slapping  his  thigh  exultantly,  "  now  is 
the  murder  out ! " 

Spencer  fixed  upon  him  a  surprised,  displeased 
glance.  Half  the  market  turned  to  see  the  sky- 


Young  April  171 

blue  officer  gesticulate,  and  a  score  of  honest  peas- 
ant faces  grinned  in  unconscious  sympathy  with 
his  great  "  Ha,  ha  !  " 

Spencer  regarded  his  friend  with  ever-increas- 
ing severity ;  both  were  charmingly  indifferent  to 
popular  interest. 

"Oh,  my  dear,"  cried  Neuberg  in  his  fluent 
translated  English,  "  that  I  should  live  to  see  the 
day !  The  little  archer  has  shot  in  the  gold  this 
time.  The  Philosopher  —  the  Philosopher  in 
love!" 

"  Love  ? "  echoed  Mr.  Spencer,  and  flouted  the 
notion.  "  Love  ?  —  no  !  One  beautiful  thing  sug- 
gests another.  Mere  concatenation  of  ideas,  that 
is  all."  Then  suddenly  his  eye  dilated,  his  figure 
seemed  to  expand,  his  cloudy  hair  stiffen,  and  in 
a  wave  of  wrath :  "  How  is  it,"  cried  he,  "  that  you, 
even  you,  can  descend  to  the  odious  vulgarity  of 
bantering  a  man  upon  a  subject  which  should  be 
so  sacred?  If  your  friend  were  in  love,  that  would 
be  his  own  heart-secret,  to  be  kept  or  confided  as 
he  saw  fit.  Nor  should  the  mere  idle  supposition 
be  a  motive  for  pointless  jests.  I  cannot  endure 
it ! "  he  continued,  with  an  ever  deeper  sense  of 
injury.  "As  soon  as  ever  a  man  approaches  a 
woman  with  admiration,  or  be  it  only  with  cour- 
tesy, lo !  he  must  find  himself  and  her  enveloped 


172  Young  April 

as  in  a  net  of  meaning  observation  and  insinua- 
tion, each  simplest  action  marked  by  nods  and 
becks  and  wreathed  smiles.  Be  it  envy,  be  it 
malice,  be  it  mere  idle  fooling,  it  is  always  ill-bred, 
sometimes  desecration,  and  the  results  are  fre- 
quently pernicious  in  the  extreme.  Love,"  went 
on  Mr.  Spencer,  "  is  the  passion  we  share  with  the 
angel  or  with  the  beast.  It  is  the  highest  and 
most  beautiful  of  all  human  emotions,  or  the  most 
degraded.  At  whichever  extreme  you  take  it,  it 
is  a  thing  terrible,  potent  for  good  or  evil.  But  to 
play  with  it,  laugh  at  it,  jest  upon  it,  can  the  folly 
of  fools  go  further  ?  " 

The  Guardsman  shook  himself  like  a  dog  under 
the  pelting  shower  of  words;  for  a  moment  he 
flushed  hotly,  and  seemed  about  to  spring  a  violent 
retort,  but  on  second  thought  his  face  cleared,  and 
he  broke  into  a  smile  again. 

"  How  is  it  possible,"  he  made  rejoinder,  "  that 
when  it  is  open  to  you  to  bask  in  the  beams  of  my 
Eva's  eyes,  you  can  talk  of  living  for  ever  under 
the  gaze  of  the  Lucena's  ?  Brr !  they  frighten  me, 
those  eyes  of  the  Grafin:  I  never  know  what 
thought  lies  behind  them.  Ah,  give  me  Eva  — 
the  warm,  the  tangible,  the  human,  the  laughing 
Eva  Beau-Sourire !  Oh,  Michael,  prate  about  your 
lady's  lids !  Have  you  never  noted  Beau-Sourire's 


Young  April  173 

lips?  —  there  is  not  such  another  pair  in  all 
the  world.  What  are  violets  to  deep-red  roses, 
to  sweet-breathed  carnations,  pouting,  bursting 
asunder?  And  to  think,"  he  added,  with  a  cry, 
"  that  I  have  never  had  a  kisg  of  love  from  them 
yet!" 

He  fell  into  a  kind  of  passionate  muse ;  while 
Spencer,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  turned  from 
him,  and  began  with  simple  awkward  fingers 
gravely  to  rearrange  the  violets  in  the  basket. 

"  I  believe,"  cried  Neuberg,  struck  by  a  brilliant 
idea,  and  gathering  up  his  flowers  again  feverishly 
as  he  spoke,  "  that  I  will  just  take  them  round  to 
Eva  myself." 

"  No  such  thing,"  said  Spencer,  now  once  again 
his  benign  and  placid  self.  "  Have  you  so  little 
consideration,  young  man,  for  that  poor  girl's 
reputation  in  a  foreign  town?  Wait  till  the 
hour  grows  more  conventional.  Come,  send  your 
flowers,  and  let  us  to  the  stables.  "Tis  the  right 
moment  for  a  gallop." 

"Convention?  This  comes  well  from  you,  in- 
deed ! "  protested  Neuberg,  scornful  but  yield- 
ing. 

His  friend  took  him  firmly  under  the  arm,  and 
thus  the  two  strolled  away  as  they  had  come. 
The  Philosopher  was  now  sweeter  than  nuts,  in 


174  Young  April 

humour  and  choice  of  words;  he  spoke  of  Love 
as  they  went,  till  the  listener  felt  his  heart  swell 
within  him,  and  thought  he  had  never  known 
before  how  dearly  he  cherished  the  mistress  of 
his  choice. 


XIX 

"  He  said :  She  must  be  swift  and  white, 
And  subtly  warm,  and  half  perverse, 
Sweet  as  a  soft  sharp  fruit  to  bite, 
And,  like  a  snake's  love,  lithe  and  fierce. 
Men  have  guessed  worse." 

SWINBUENE. 

THE  Duke  rubbed  his  eyes.  So  rapidly  had 
new  impressions  succeeded  each  other  during  the 
last  four  days,  and  so  confusedly  did  the  memory 
of  them  throng  into  his  mind,  that,  roused  sud- 
denly from  deep  sleep,  he  could  not  recall  where 
he  was. 

Neuberg  opened  the  window  wide,  unfastened 
and  flung  back  the  outer  green  shutter;  and 
floods  of  blue  air,  the  very  breath  of  the  spring, 
burst  into  the  room,  to  the  accompaniment  of 
some  distant  drum,  strident  as  a  cricket's  beat 
and  threaded  with  an  acid  string  of  fife. 

"  Hark !  "  said  Neuberg,  "  there  goes  the  main 
watch,  which  means,  my  friend,  that  it  is  the 
burning  hour  of  noon,  and  that  therefore  you 

'75 


176  Young  April 

have  slept  the  clock  round.     Spencer  swears   by 
lemons,  rind  and  juice !  " 

He  came  over  to  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and  sat  on 
the  edge,  swinging  his  high-booted  leg.  "  Did 
you  sweat?"  said  he,  and  inserted  his  cool  fin- 
gers under  the  collar  of  the  half-awakened  youth. 
"Splendid!  There,  then,  you  may  get  up,  so 
Spencer  said;  which,"  he  added,  "is  lucky,  as 
the  King  wants  to  see  you.  Hans  shall  get  you 
a  hot  bath  and  rub  you  down  like  a  horse,  and 
you  will  be  as  fit  as  a  fiddle.  Meanwhile  cover 
up,  and  I  shall  tell  you  the  morning  news.  Why, 
half  my  day  is  done." 

Rochester  yawned  and  smiled,  looking  prepos- 
terously young  with  the  red  curls  tossed  about 
the  beardless  face.  This  wakening  to  his  new 
existence  was  a  joy ;  the  concrete  part  of  it  repre- 
sented by  Neuberg's  breezy  presence,  radiating  the 
joy  of  life  and  the  lustiness  of  manhood,  delight- 
ful to  one  accustomed  to  be  aroused  from  obstinate 
slumber  by  an  abominable  Smiley. 

"  It  is  a  glorious  day,"  said  the  Count ;  "  I  have 
had  a  glorious  morning.  Up  at  sunrise,  I  strolled 
to  Spencer's  house.  He  had  been  up  since  dawn." 

"  I  do  not  wonder,"  said  the  Duke,  recalling  one 
by  one  the  experiences  of  the  previous  evening. 
Reviewed  by  morning  wits,  they  had  lost  their 


Yotmg  April  177 

glamour,  and  showed  out  shabby  and  uncouth  to 
his  young  fastidious  mind.  He  felt  astonished, 
even  a  little  ashamed,  of  the  enthusiasm  which 
had  actually  possessed  him  for  this  eccentric  coun- 
tryman. "  I  do  not  wonder,"  he  said ;  "  if  your 
philosopher  sets  up  as  dry-nurse  to  foundlings,  he 
must  expect  to  have  a  troubled  rest." 

"  Dear  fellow ! "  said  Neuberg,  with  a  tender 
laugh  of  recollection ;  "  nay,  he  swears  the  bant- 
ling 'slept  like  a  flower.'  Before  I  came  he  had 
found  a  nest  for  it,  so  he  is  already  out  of  that. 
Was  I  not  right  to  say,  '  Never  was  such  a 
man'?" 

"  Oh,  I  for  one  will  not  dispute  it,"  said  the 
Duke,  with  the  suspicion  of  a  sneer. 

"  Well,  you  would  have  thought  so  even  more 
strongly  this  morning,"  said  Neuberg,  his  eye  too 
inwardly  fixed  upon  his  own  thoughts  to  notice 
Rochester's  expression.  "We  had  breakfast  to- 
gether, you  must  know,  and  after  breakfast  we 
went  to  the  market-place,  for  I  wanted  to  buy  a 
bunch  of  spring  flowers  as  a  morning  greeting  for 
a  certain  lady.  Ah,  Mr.  Postilion  ! "  cried  he 
then,  with  a  loud  laugh,  "did  I  steal  a  march 
upon  you?  There  is  a  virtue,  after  all,  in  early 
rising.  Well,  thereby,  as  the  saw  runs,  hangs  a 
tale."  The  speaker  paused  and  measured  Roches- 


178  Young  April 

ter  with  a  thoughtful  eye.  "Nay,"  he  went  on, 
after  a  while,  "since  strangely  we  have  grown 
friends,  I  will  have  no  secrets  from  you;  for  I 
understand  friendship  in  but  one  way — the  heart 
on  the  hand.  Spencer  likes  you,  too :  he  told  me 
so  this  morning.  He  has  read  you  like  a  book. 
'A  lad  of  delicate  honour,'  he  says,  'with  the 
making  in  him,  if  well  guided,  of  a  fine  man.' 
We  shall  be  three  in  the  bond.  Give  me  thine 
hand  upon  it,  mine  honest  rival !  " 

Moved  by  a  curious  mixture  of  feelings,  the 
blood  rose  in  Rochester's  face  as  he  slid  his 
hand  into  his  host's  grasp.  Gladdened  to  the  in- 
nermost by  the  words  of  praise,  his  vanity,  never 
theless,  rebelled  against  the  original  source  of  it. 

"  D his  impertinence  !  "  he  thought,  but  at 

the  same  moment  smiled,  in  spite  of  himself,  with 
eyes  and  lips. 

"  That  being  settled,"  said  Neuberg,  with  a  sigh 
of  satisfaction,  "I  shall  tell  you  about  Spencer." 
He  lowered  his  voice,  and  proceeded  with  a  mouth- 
ing whisper :  "  Spencer  is  in  love,  too." 

He  stood  back  and  stared  at  the  Duke  to  see 
the  effect  of  this  astonishing  revelation.  But  the 
other  only  stared  back  rather  blankly. 

"  In  love,"  he  echoed,  —  "  in  love  after  all,  — 
and  with  Eva,  I  suppose  ?  " 


Young  April  179 

"God  forbid!"  cried  the  Count.  "No,  no! 
Heaven  is  good  to  me.  No,  it  is  with  the  Count- 
ess Lucena." 

"  And  who  is  she  ?  "  asked  the  boy,  his  fancy- 
vibrating  to  the  sound  of  the  romantic  name. 

"Ah,  who  indeed?"  cried  Neuberg.  "And 
have  you  been  four  days  in  my  company,  and 
never  heard  me  speak  of  the  Countess  Lucena  ? 
And  have  you  been  a  night  in  this  town  and  no 
rumour  of  her  yet  reached  your  ear?  She  is  the 
pearl  of  our  Court,  Duke.  Never  look  so  aston- 
ished, man;  I  am  not  in  love  with  her.  She  is 
too  subtle  —  refined,  too  art-learned,  too  idealized, 
too  high-strung,  too  everything  altogether  beyond 
your  humble  servant !  I  told  you,  did  I  not," 
he  added,  after  a  pause,  "  that  if  Spencer  ever  fell 
a  victim,  it  would  be  to  some  wonderful  being, 
half  goddess,  half  grande  dame.  Strange  I  should 
not  have  thought  of  her  then.  But  she  has  been 
so  much  away,  I  hardly  knew  they  had  met. 
Goddess  !  she  might  best  pass  for  Diana  —  in 
looks,  at  least.  (They  were  curious  beings,  your 
goddesses,  if  we  examine  their  private  lives.)  Eva 
would  make  a  better  Venus,  and  yet,  if  an  un- 
biassed Paris  had  to  choose,  it  is  as  like  as  not  he 
would  give  the  apple  to  the  Lucena.  .  .  .  Well, 
we  ara  not  Paris,  nor  are  we  unbiassed.  She  is 


180  Young  April 

grande  dame,  if  you  like ;  there  can  be  but  one 
opinion  about  that  —  English,  too.  You  English 
must  be  a  remarkable  people  to  produce  a  Spencer 
and  a  Lucena.  Oh,  I  crave  pardon — also  the  pink 
and  pattern  of  postilions  ! " 

To  anyone  else  the  Duke  might  have  shown 
pique  upon  such  disrespectful  banter,  but  there 
was  a  lovableness  about  Neuberg  that  coloured 
even  his  most  familiar  speech. 

"Oh,  go  on!"  said  the  new  peer,  and  kicked 
the  bedclothes  in  the  schoolboy  way  that  oc- 
casionally overcame  his  gracious  dignity.  "  How 
comes  a  countrywoman  of  mine  in  a  foreign 
Court,  and  with  a  foreign  name?" 

"  Many,  sir,"  said  Neuberg,  with  his  occasional 
Elizabethan  twist  of  tongue,  "  the  explanation 
need  not  tax  your  wits  greatly  to  follow.  The 
beauteous  Julia  (her  name  is  Julia)  is  the  daughter 
of  some  whilom  British  Ambassador  at  the  Tuscan 
Court,  Anglo-Saxon  from  sire  and  dam,  but  bred 
a  Florentine.  Married,  if  not,  like  Julia  Capulet, 
at  fourteen,  at  least  at  some  absurdly  tender  age, 
to  one  Count  Lucena,  a  jealous  Spanish  Neapolitan, 
she  was  early  and  mercifully  widowed  of  the  same. 
Since  then,"  —  Neuberg  spread  out  the  fingers  of 
one  hand  with  an  expressive  gesture,  — "  since 
then:  five  years'  widowhood  at  Florence.  She  is 


Young  April  181 

devoted  to  art  and  study,  and  the  cult  of  Beauty 
generally.  Florence,  some  people  say,  offers  a 
variety  of  distractions  to  a  young  and  lovely 
woman.  However,  let  that  pass :  rumour  is 
always  ill-natured.  She  became  the  bosom  friend 
and  confidante  of  our  Queen  (who  was,  as  you 
know,  or  probably  don't,  a  Princess  of  the  House 
of  Tuscany,  and  is  virtue  itself,  so  that  even 
rumour  dare  not  puff  at  her),  and  followed  Her 
Majesty  hither  three  years  ago.  The  Queen  is 
devotedly  attached  to  her,  allows  her  every  liberty, 
nay,  is  led  by  her  without  so  seeming  —  loads  her 
with  favours,  which  are  so  graciously  accepted 
that  one  would  swear  the  obligation  was  on  Her 
Majesty's  side.  And  here  you  have  the  map  of 
the  country." 

"Does  Mr.  Spencer,"  asked  Rochester,  "admit 
the  soft  impeachment  ?  " 

Neuberg  chuckled. 

"Of  course,"  he  said,  "I  attacked  him  pres- 
ently. To  find  Spencer  a  prey  to  the  ordinary 
weakness  of  mankind  was  too  delightful,  and  the 
dear  fellow  is  so  unconscious  of  his  real  state,  and 
so  guilelessly  wise  over  other  people's  follies,  so 
sure  of  his  own  immunity  —  and  all  the  while  so 
hopelessly  entrapped!  It  will  be  a  most  instructive 
lesson  to  him,  and,  my  faith !  she  will  make  it  a 


1 82  Young  April 

pleasant  one.  He  could  not  have  fallen  into 
better  or  safer  hands,  nor  more  practised.  She  will 
lift  him  up  to  heights  Elysian  .  .  .  and  let  him 
down  gently  when  she  has  had  enough.  It  is  just 
the  one  experience  he  wanted  to  make  him  a  per- 
fect man.  He  is  in  deadly  earnest  already.  .  .  . 
I  got  a  tremendous  rating  for  my  vulgarity  in 
laughing  at  so  sacred  a  subject." 

"And  do  you  let  him  rate  you,  Count  Neuberg?  " 
asked  Rochester. 

His  friend  gave  him  a  sudden,  surprised  stare, 
then  laughed. 

"Let  him  rate  me?"  said  he.  "I  have  to  let 
him  if  he  wants  to.  Oh,  you  do  not  know  Spencer 
yet ;  but  allow  me  to  tell  you  he  would  not  rate 
one  did  he  not  think  one  worth  the  trouble.  You 
will  perhaps  notice  him  with  some  at  the  Court  — 
fools  as  they  are  many,  snakes  as  they  are  a  few 
—  and  his  manner  to  them :  two  words  of  suavity, 
covering  contempt.  So  I  just  let  Spencer  have  at 
me  when  he  has  a  mind,  and  am  flattered  that  he 
should  care.  Moreover,  he  generally  says  some- 
thing worth  remembering  on  those  occasions. 
And,  besides,  I  have  good  example.  You  should 
have  heard  him  giving  scold  number  three  to-day 
(row  the  first  was  with  his  servant),  and  to  whom 
addressed,  do  you  think  ?  —  to  the  King ! " 


Young  April  183 

Neuberg  threw  himself  back  with  one  of  his 
merry  laughs.  Rochester  gazed  open-mouthed: 
he  had  an  innate  respect  for  rank,  beginning  with 
his  own,  and  could  hardly  conceive  the  situation. 

"  I  do  not  think,"  said  Neuberg,  sitting  up  again, 
and  rubbing  his  nose  reflectively,  — "I  do  not 
think  His  Majesty  quite  liked  it,  between  ourselves. 
But  he,  all  shining  star  of  the  Holy  Alliance  as 
he  is,  must,  like  his  humbler  fellow-men,  take 
Spencer  as  he  finds  him.  Well,  I  will  tell  you 
how  it  came  about.  We  took  our  ride  together, 
Spencer  and  I,  and  my  dear  fellow  was  delicious. 
We  spoke  of  love  under  the  budding  chestnuts. 
It  is  a  morning  I  never  can  forget;  and  since  I 
know  that  Michael  Spencer,  too,  has  fallen  into 
the  snare,  my  heart  sings  like  a  bird's.  I  cannot 
help  it ;  it  makes  my  way  so  much  clearer.  Poor 
Eva,  though,  it  will  be  a  bitter  blow  to  her!  I 
declare  I  am  a  selfish  wretch,  always  thinking 
about  her,  and  yet  not  for  her." 

He  fell  into  a  sudden  silence. 

Rochester  watched  him  a  little  while,  striving  to 
follow  his  friend's  complicated  thoughts ;  but  see- 
ing the  musing  likely  to  be  prolonged  he  grew 
impatient. 

"What  about  the  King  and  the  scolding  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Neuberg,  starting,  and  falling  in  his 


184  Young  April 

easy  way  back  to  his  former  matter,  "  that  was  a 
sight !  I  wish  you  had  been  there.  It  was  upon 
the  subject  of  horses,  too,  which  is  for  the  moment 
one  of  His  Majesty's  favourite  studies.  He  is  just 
now  having  a  splendid  young  blood-mare  broken 
in  for  him  under  the  supervision  of  Herr  von  Sachs 
— a  Prussian  beast,  Rochester,  and  by-the-by,  one 
of  those  Court  serpents  about  whom  I  was  speak- 
ing to  you.  This  Sachs  has  a  rough-rider  —  an- 
other Prussian  beast  —  whom  he  swears  by.  We 
found  them  all  in  the  stable-yard  —  my  Royal  mas- 
ter, Sachs,  the  rough-rider,  and  the  mare.  And 
the  mare  was  making  as  firm  a  protest  as  she  could, 
poor  creature,  against  the  treatment.  I  don't 
know  how  you  manage  these  things  in  England, 
but  to  see  Sachs's  precious  system  applied  —  well, 
it  is  not  a  pretty  sight.  The  trainer's  boots  were 
blood  up  to  the  calf,  and  the  mare's  mouth  ran 
blood  and  foam.  *  Good  God,  Your  Majesty ! ' 
said  Spencer,  *  what  have  you  here  ? '  My  mind 
misgave  me  ;  I  wished  I  could  spirit  him  away  and 
I  gave  him  a  sharp  nudge  to  make  him  hold  his 
tongue. 

"'Oh,'  says  the  King,  'an  incurably  obstinate 
and  vicious  animal,  I  am  afraid,  for,  according  to 
Sachs's  report  here,  none  but  his  man  will  ever  be 
able  to  manage  her.  More  is  the  pity,  for  she  is 
the  pick  of  the  stud.' 


Young  April 

"'Obstinate?'  says  Spencer  ('Neuberg,  leave 
me  alone ! '  —  and  I  gave  it  up) — '  vicious  ?  No, 
not  if  I  am  a  judge  of  physiognomy.  Tortured, 
sir!' 

" '  Physiognomy  in  a  horse,'  says  the  King ;  *  oh, 
these  philosophers ! '  And  he  laughs  very  loud. 
As  for  Sachs,  he  went  green.  '  Perhaps,'  says  he, 
'  Mr.  Spencer  would  give  us  a  practical  exposition 
of  his  theories.'  Spencer  notices  him  no  more 
than  if  he  had  been  a  fly  buzzing  in  his  ear.  '  Look 
at  that  eye,  Your  Majesty,'  continues  he ;  '  how 
can  you  bear  that  reproach?  Why,  it  is  almost 
human  in  its  agony.'  'My  good  friend,'  says 
the  King  very  dryly,  'this  is  quite  out  of  your 
department.  It  is  necessary  that  man  should  con- 
quer if  he  is  to  make  a  servant  of  his  steed.' 

" '  With  all  respect,  sir,'  answers  Spencer,  '  have 
a  servant  —  not  a  slave.  The  horse,  a  noble  and 
refined  animal,  demands  intelligent  and  courteous 
treatment.  At  this  rate,  when  that  beautiful  crea- 
ture is  considered  fit  for  Your  Majesty's  saddle,  she 
will  not  be  worth  the  bestriding.'  His  Majesty 
stiffened  himself  and  I  think  was  about  to  give  his 
shoulder  to  Spencer,  when  Sachs,  quite  unable  to 
contain  his  fury,  broke  in,  positively  stammering. 

" '  Mr.  Spencer,'  says  he,  '  thinks  perhaps  it  is  as 
easy  to  handle  the  reins  as  to  dandle  a  baby  —  to 


1 86  Young  April 

sit  in  that  saddle  as  to  loll  in  a  rocking-chair.' 
The  infernal  ass!  he  thought  this  was  the  most 
deadly  stab.  But  my  dear  Michael's  simplicity  is 
as  polished  and  impervious  as  a  cuirass " 

"But  how  the  deuce?"  interrupted  Rochester, 
whose  interest  in  his  countryman  was  unconsciously 
reviving,  —  "how  could  this  Herr  Sachs  know 
about  the  baby  already?" 

"My  dear  fellow,  it  is  the  joke  of  the  Court. 
There  is  not  an  extra  breath  we  take  the  King 
does  not  know  of  within  twelve  hours  at  most. 
He  would  sooner  go  without  his  breakfast  than 
without  his  police-report  every  morning,  and  any- 
thing out  of  the  way  is  the  topic  of  the  day.  Our 
police  here  is  managed,  I  assure  you,  within  a  nail's 
breadth  of  perfection.  His  Majesty  knows  all  about 
our  little  encounter,  too,  of  course  ;  I  told  you  he 
would.  He  pretends  he  does  not ;  and  that,  by  the 
way,  explains  his  forestalling  my  request  for  leave 
to  present  you.  You  are  a  hero  here  already." 

But  the  Duke  did  not  seem  altogether  pleased 
with  the  efficiency  of  the  King's  police. 

"It  is  fortunate  that  Spencer  does  not  care  a 
farthing  for  what  people  say  of  him,"  proceeded 
Neuberg.  "Well,  the  King  laughed  again  at 
Sachs's  sally.  '  Ah,  yes,'  said  he ;  *  we  have  heard  of 
this,  Mr.  Spencer.  It  was  daring,  upon  my  soul ! 


Young  April  187 

I  myself  should  prefer  to  tackle  that  young  blood 
yonder.'  Here,  of  course,  everyone  was  vastly 
tickled,  except  Michael,  who  remained  as  grave  as 
a  mustard-pot.  'It  would  be  curious,  after  all,' 
said  the  King,  '  to  see  if  you  would  be  as  ready  to 
preach  from  the  saddle  as  from  the  chair.'  I  knew 
he  was  really  vexed  with  Spencer  under  his  urbane 
manner,  and  wanted  to  put  him  down.  Of  course 
none  of  them  dreamt  of  a  philosopher  accepting 
such  a  challenge.  But  Spencer  was  the  very  image 
of  unsuspecting  dignity,  nor  would  he  let  them  off 
one  tittle  of  his  opinion.  'Sire,'  said  he,  'al- 
though a  man  may  quite  legitimately  criticise  a 
performance  without  even  being  able  to  do  as  much 
himself,  I  am  ready,  if  it  please  you,  to  back  my 
opinion  by  deed.  I  will  undertake  to  put  that 
animal  through  all  her  paces  —  through  all  the 
paces,  at  least,  that  are  natural  to  a  horse.  But  I 
won't  undertake  to  make  her  dance  the  mazurka,* 
he  added,  looking  at  Sachs,  'which  I  don't  con- 
sider a  desirable  accomplishment  in  charger,  hack, 
or  hunter.'  Sachs,  who  was  now  every  colour  of 
the  rainbow,  was  all  for  mounting  Spencer  then 
and  there.  But  Spencer  declared  that  the  poor 
brute  was  so  distracted  that  it  would  not  be  a  fair 
trial.  Any  time,  however,  in  the  afternoon  that 
His  Majesty  was  pleased  to  fix,  he  said,  he  would 


1 88  Young  April 

be  ready.  And  so,"  said  Neuberg,  rising,  "my 
Philosopher  will  play  the  horse-breaker  at  four 
o'clock  before  a  select  assembly.  And  you  must 
now  get  up  if  you  would  be  there  to  see,  Rochester. 
I  have  kept  you  by  my  chatter  an  unconscionable 
time." 

At  the  door  he  paused  and  looked  back, 
grinning. 

"  You  shall  see,"  said  he,  "  that  Michael  finds 
it  as  easy  to  deal  with  the  rearing  of  a  horse  as 
with  the  rearing  of  an  infant." 


XX 

"  The  April's  in  her  eyes.    It  is  love's  spring." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

"No,  sir,"  said  Rochester,  "merely  travelling 
for  pleasure." 

"  So,"  said  the  King,  and  eyed  him  kindly. 

The  young  Englishman  stood  in  the  charmed 
circle  of  Royalty,  and  though  none  that  beheld 
him  saw  aught  in  his  manner  but  a  pretty  youth- 
ful grace,  he  was  conscious  himself  of  a  quicken- 
ing of  the  pulses,  a  sense  of  awe  and  constraint, 
that  made  him  (he  thought  angrily)  show  awk- 
ward, foreign,  and  unversed.  And  he  wondered 
to  see  the  unconcern  of  Neuberg  through  all  his 
military  precision;  the  ease  of  Spencer,  whose 
friendly  face  he  dimly  recognized  in  the  distance. 

The  afternoon  had  kept  the  promise  of  the 
morning ;  the  sunshine  was  dazzling  bright  on  the 
side  terrace,  whither  Neuberg  had  ushered  him 
into  the  presence  of  the  Sovereign. 

For  the  first  few  moments  he  had  received  but 
189 


I  go  Young  April 

a  confused  impression  of  glistening  shoulder-knots, 
rustling  dresses,  bright  watching  eyes,  and  whis- 
pering fair  faces  —  these  as  a  background  to  a 
dominant  manly  figure  that  stood  apart  from  the 
rest  and  measured  him  with  the  glance  of  the 
Sovereign. 

"  You  are  travelling,  I  understand,"  said  the 
King  graciously,  "  in  the  English  custom,  for  the 
completion  of  your  studies  ?  " 

And  then  he  had  bowed  and  answered,  blushing 
under  the  sense  of  his  own  harmless  disingenuous- 
ness. 

"  So,"  had  said  the  King ;  and  then  added,  with 
a  smile,  holding  out  his  hand,  "  You  are  welcome, 
Duke,  to  our  Capital." 

This  King  was  a  man  of  parts :  he  spoke  many 
languages  with  a  conscious. ease. 

Recognized  now  according  to  his  rank,  the  boy 
felt  his  spirit  rise  with  a  bound ;  the  mists  cleared 
from  his  eyes,  and  he  looked  about  him  seeingly. 

He  was  surprised  to  find  that  his  Royal  inter- 
locutor was  somewhat  below  middle  stature,  so 
imposing  had  been  the  first  impression,  and  so 
imposing  did  he  still  appear  to  calmer  observation 
as  the  centre  of  a  brilliant  circle.  This  effect  was 
no  doubt  partly  due  to  the  square  shoulders  and 
the  erect  carriage  —  natural  advantages  artificially 


Young  April  191 

heightened  by  a  becoming  uniform  and  by  a  culti- 
vated eagle  glance.  For  the  rest,  the  King  had  a 
broad,  rather  low  forehead,  sinuously  crossed  by 
swelling  veins,  upon  which  fine  dark  curling  hair 
grew  down  in  three  distinct  peaks ;  a  sanguine 
complexion ;  prominent  light  eyes ;  full  lips,  very 
red  and  smooth,  with  a  shade  of  that  ferocity  in 
their  expression  which  is  known  to  attract  a  cer- 
tain type  of  woman.  It  was  a  powerful,  manly 
personality,  and  made  an  extraordinary  impression 
of  strength  and  activity  —  that  of  a  man  with  full 
blood  and  steel  nerves,  who  helped  himself  to  life 
with  both  hands  and  was  marked  out  as  much  by 
temperament  as  by  birth  for  the  autocrat. 

A  few  paces  in  the  rear  stood  a  group  of  officers, 
conversing  under  their  breath  with  each  other,  but 
never  losing  sight  of  the  least  movement  of  their 
master  —  cavalrymen,  apparently,  in  the  best  recog- 
nized attitudes  of  ease  and  attention ;  a  couple  in 
forest  green,  one  with  a  crimson-befurred  dolman, 
and,  predominant  among  them  in  his  silver  and 
blue,  Neuberg,  gay  and  handsome. 

An  elderly  man,  of  broad  and  wiry  frame,  with 
long  grizzled  hussar  moustache,  stood  a  little  away 
from  the  rest,  legs  straggling  apart  and  fist  on  hip, 
flicking  the  tip  of  his  Hessians  with  a  cutting 
whip.  This  personage  Rochester  instantly  identi- 


192  Young  April 

fied  as  Herr  von  Sachs,  one  of  his  friend's  Court 
serpents. 

Under  the  radiance  of  the  spring  sun,  the  flutter- 
ing scarves  and  light  silk  dresses  of  the  bevy  of 
ladies  gathered  against  the  marble  balustrade 
shone  with  a  pleasant  harmony  of  rose,  tender 
green,  and  faint  lilac.  From  the  deference  paid 
to  her,  the  Duke  easily  distinguished  the  black- 
browed,  sweet-eyed  Queen.  She  was  smiling 
over  her  shoulder  at  the  Philosopher,  who,  in  a 
close-fitting  suit  of  iron  gray,  with  the  shade  of 
his  picturesque  wide-winged  felt  upon  his  face, 
looked  wonderfully  at  home  amid,  yet  quite  as 
wonderfully  apart  from,  his  surroundings. 

Little  bursts  of  laughter  came  rippling  over, 
accompanied  by  Spencer's  own  deep  and  jovial 
note. 

Rochester  could  hardly  forbear  casting  glances 
of  longing  in  that  attractive  direction  whilst  still 
singled  out  by  the  King  for  particular  notice. 

"  You  find  us  assembled  upon  a  curious  occasion, 
as  doubtless  Count  Neuberg  has  informed  you; 
your  learned  countryman  and  he  are  inseparable 
friends  —  Castor  and  Pollux,  Damon  and  Pythias ! 
Professor  Spencer  has,  it  seems,  a  theory  of  his 
own  upon  the  education  of  the  horse.  We  have 
great  respect  for  his  capacity  on  the  subject  of  the 


Young  April  193 

education  of  the  human  being,  and  we  hope  to 
retain  him  by  our  side,  were  it  for  no  other  pur- 
pose than  to  advise  us  on  the  many  reforms  it  is 
our  purpose  to  introduce  into  that  department. 
For  stable  discipline,  however,  we  confess  that  we 
should  have  been  disposed  to  address  ourselves 
elsewhere.  But  he  has  shown  recently  such  un- 
expected accomplishments  that  we  are  quite  pre- 
pared to  see  him  demonstrate  successfully  to-day 
that  the  proper  way  of  dealing  with  the  colt  is  to 
take  him  by  the  polite  side  of  his  nature,  and  say, 
*  If  you  please.' " 

The  King  gave,  as  he  spoke,  a  little  dry  laugh, 
in  which  Rochester  had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing 
the  remains  of  the  irritation  described  by  Neuberg 
that  morning, 

"  I  would  rather,"  thought  he  to  himself,  "  be  in 
His  Majesty's  good  than  in  his  bad  books." 

"  We  will  hope,"  pursued  the  King,  "  that  our 
Professor  may  not  be  too  rudely  disillusioned,  for 
all  our  sakes,"  he  added,  "not  forgetting  yours, 
Duke.  I  understand  that  slinged  arm  is  now 
under  his  care;  it  could  not  be  in  better  hands,  I 
assure  you.  I  trust  you  are  rapidly  recovering. 
It  appears,"  he  pursued,  with  a  laugh,  which  this 
time  rang  more  genuine,  "  that  you  are  also  a  some- 
what reckless  horseman."  Then,  with  his  eyes 


194  Young  April 

fixed  upon  the  boy's  hot  flushing  countenance,  he 
proceeded  in  tones  of  slightly  malicious  banter: 
"  Our  ladies  are  quite  anxious  to  make  the  ac- 
quaintance of  '  Love's  Postilion,'  as  one  of  them 
has  named  you.  This  is  a  pretty  renown  to  have 
spread  before  you ! " 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  his  prominent  eyes 
still  scrutinizing  the  sensitive  young  face:  they 
were  very  different  from  the  benevolent  eyes  which 
had  seemed  to  read  Rochester's  soul  the  night 
before  up  in  the  Philosopher's  lofty  perch.  This 
inquisitive  hard  gaze  was  that  of  a  man  whose 
pride  it  was  never  to  droop  it  before  another's.  It 
was  a  gaze  which  did  not  read,  but  violated. 
Before  such  a  look  from  an  equal  a  woman  might 
instinctively  drop  her  veil;  a  man  might  ball  his 
fist  or  seek  his  sword-hilt ;  from  a  Sovereign,  per- 
haps, it  might  to  certain  minds  seem  to  confer 
honour. 

The  Englishman's  unsettled  youthful  blood  was 
all  in  a  turmoil.  The  King's  smile  grew  ever  more 
friendly  as  he  gazed  upon  the  confusion  he  had 
caused  —  confusion  so  evident,  yet  endured  with 
such  natural  high-breeding. 

"Come,"  said  he,  and  laid  his  hand  on  the 
Duke's  shoulder,  "  the  Queen  is  beckoning  to  us. 
Your  acquaintance  is  impatiently  desired  by  the 


Young  April  195 

fair  of  our  Court,  even  as  we  of  the  sterner  sex 
are  all  agog  to  see  this  lady  whose  charms  seem  so 
potent.  Eh,  Count  Neuberg  I  " 

Side  by  side  they  had  reached  the  group  of 
officers,  who  fell  back  before  them;  but  Neuberg, 
catching  his  name  and  the  King's  look,  advanced 
to  join  them. 

"  We  were  talking,"  said  the  King,  "  of  this  rara 
avis,  who  has  the  tones  of  the  nightingale  and  the 
loveliness  of  Venus's  own  dove,  and  we  were  say- 
ing that  we  shall  be  all  impatience  until  we  are 
gratified  with  the  sight  of  her." 

There  was  a  kind  of  nicker  in  his  gray  eye  as 
he  spoke,  gone  as  soon  as  come.  The  Equerry, 
Rochester  thought,  threw  back  a  sudden,  startled 
glance,  but  that,  too,  was  so  momentary  that  he 
could  hardly  be  sure.  The  next  moment  Neuberg 
made  a  laughing  rejoinder  and  the  three  ap- 
proached the  Queen. 

Rochester  was  duly  presented  and  kissed  the 
little  ringed  hand  graciously  extended  to  him. 
As  he  straightened  himself,  nervously  conscious 
of  many  smiling  eyes  fixed  upon  him,  he  heard  a 
voice  floating  in  the  air,  as  it  seemed,  above  him, 
so  delicate  and  melodious  that  it  rather  grew  upon 
the  senses  generally  than  broke  upon  the  ear;  and 
the  voice  said  in  English,  with  the  faintest  foreign 
intonation : 


196  Young  April 

"  You  never  told  me  he  was  such  a  pretty  boy! " 

Looking  hastily  round,  he  saw  a  slight,  tall 
figure,  all  enveloped  in  pale  lilac  folds  and  diapha- 
nous scarves,  a  large  beplumed  hat  crowning  a 
cloud  of  light-brown  hair,  fine  and  tremulous  as 
the  feathery  wood-ash.  The  small  face  showed 
behind  the  folds  of  veil  as  a  ray  of  moonlight 
behind  the  mist;  eyes  like  pools  in  shadow,  gleam- 
ing fathomless;  lips  of  bewildering  outline,  curv- 
ing divinely  over  flashing  teeth,  or  closing  into 
narrow  scarlet  like  the  folded  poppy.  From  the 
waving  feather  crest  to  the  hem  of  the  light,  float- 
ing skirt,  everything  about  this  being  seemed  as 
vaporous  as  the  spiral  mists  sucked  from  the 
meadows  by  the  kisses  of  the  morning  sun. 

Then  suddenly,  feeling  himself  enveloped  in 
an  atmosphere  of  laughter,  the  Duke  awoke  to  the 
fact  that  he  had  been  betrayed  into  staring  like  a 
bumpkin.  Someone,  Neuberg  or  Spencer,  now 
laid  hold  of  him,  and  continued  the  introduction. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  my  countryman,"  she 
said,  and  held  out  her  hand,  that  through  the 
gray  glove  felt  warm  and  soft  like  a  living  bird. 

Her  eyes  were  caressing  behind  narrowed  lids, 
and  her  smile  was  a  pit  of  such  sweetness  that 
the  Duke  fell  headlong  in  upon  the  spot.  When 
he  had  sufficiently  recovered  from  the  shock  to 


'"YOU  NEVER  TOLD  ME  HE  WAS  SUCH  A  PRETTY  BOY! 


Young  April  197 

be  able  to  look  back  upon  the  place  where  he  had 
stood  a  moment  before  it  was  as  from  a  great 
distance. 

So  this  was  the  Countess  de  Lucena.  He  had 
known  it  before  the  name  was  spoken.  And 
those  were  Spencer's  violets  clasped  behind  the 
gold  at  her  waist;  they  seemed  to  form  part 
of  her,  as,  indeed,  did  all  she  wore,  and  he  was 
ready  to  swear  that  the  fragrance  which  was 
wafted  to  him  was  her  own,  and  not  that  of  the 
flowers. 

It  was  to  Spencer  she  turned  again,  after  a 
second  glance  upon  the  Duke  which  held  him  by 
her  side  as  firmly  as  if  she  had  put  out  her  hand 
to  retain  him.  The  boy's  heart  burned  with  a 
grudging  pain  it  had  never  felt  before.  Who  was 
this  man  that  he  should  bar  the  way  with  her  as 
well  as  with  Eva?  .  .  .  Poor  Eva!  Here  Roch- 
ester was  smitten  with  tender,  pitying  remorse. 
What  chance  had  she,  poor  Beau-Sourire,  the 
simple  songstress,  the  unsophisticated  child  of 
earth,  against  the  goddess  who  was  also  a  grande 
dame  ? 

"  By  George ! "  thought  the  Duke.  "  G-rande 
dame  first  of  all !  " 

Unconsciously,  that  was  what  most  appealed  to 
the  young  patrician  in  the  subtle  loveliness  of 


198  Young  April 

his  latest  discovery  ;  unconsciously,  also,  the  very 
thought  drew  a  comparison  between  her  and  the 
woman  who  had  been  the  fire  of  his  soul  until 
a  few  moments  before,  and  in  the  comparison 
there  was  faint-hearted  disparagement. 

The  circle  was  now  breaking  up.  Everyone 
followed  the  King  towards  a  particular  angle  of 
the  terrace  which  dominated  a  large  expanse  of 
hedged-in  turf  below,  a  sort  of  open-air  ring,  or, 
rather,  miniature  racecourse. 

"Among  many  other  accomplishments,"  said 
the  Countess  de  Lucena,  turning  to  Rochester, 
while  Spencer,  summoned  to  the  King's  side, 
hastened  forward,  "  His  Majesty  reckons  that  of 
scientific  horsemanship,  and  he  is  anxious  to  en- 
courage the  breeding  of  horses  and  sporting  tastes 
throughout  his  kingdom  generally.  We  have 
seen  many  a  pretty  display  in  this  spring-garden, 
but  never  one  so  interesting  as  this  promises  to 
be." 

She  moved  onward  as  she  spoke,  showing  to 
Rochester,  with  a  vague  recollection  of  his  clas- 
sical studies,  as  might  a  nymph  among  mortals. 
More  quietly  robed  than  the  other  women,  no 
taller,  less  magnificently  proportioned  than  some, 
with  no  vivid  colouring  of  hair  or  cheek,  she 
yet  seemed  to  throw  everyone  else  in  shadow. 


Young  April  199 

The  Queen  was  ordinary  —  merely  pretty  beside 
her.  The  very  youth  of  one  or  two  girls  lost  its 
spring  charm  and  grew  uncouth  —  immature  — 
by  contrast  with  her  perfect  grace. 

They  halted  where  some  seats  had  been  placed 
for  the  Royal  party.  A  few  yards  further  a  broad 
flight  of  marble  steps  led  down  to  the  level  of 
the  field  below.  The  Countess  remained  standing, 
leaning  with  her  elbow  upon  the  balustrade,  her 
cheek  upon  her  hand ;  and  the  Duke  stood  -beside 
her.  After  a  second  or  two  the  King  came  up  to 
them,  and  Spencer's  gray  figure  was  seen  quietly 
descending  the  steps.  The  Countess  looked  after 
him  in  silence,  the  pupils  of  her  gray  eyes  con- 
tracting intently.  Rochester  was  minded  of  some 
beautiful,  enigmatical  cat  watching  a  distant 
bird,  but  immediately  repudiated  the  blasphemous 
simile. 

"  I  hope,"  said  the  King,  "  that  our  friend  may 
fall  softly;  the  turf  is  springy." 

"  Do  you  think,  Your  Majesty,  there  is  any  dan- 
ger?" asked  the  Countess,  with  a  pretty  defer- 
ence in  her  mien,  and  a  certain  little  thrill  in 
her  voice. 

"  Danger,  gracious  lady ! "  said  the  King ;  "  do 
you  not  know  that  only  the  trainer  has  been  able 
to  sit  the  mare ;  that  not  even  the  great  Sachs 


2OO  Young  April 

himself  dare  try  conclusions  with  her  ?  Ah,  here 
she  comes !  See  how  she  sends  the  turf  scudding. 
Our  friend  Spencer  will  hold  his  life  in  his  hands. 
You  fair  ladies  can  imagine  yourselves  back  in 
the  good  old  Roman  days,  looking  down  upon  a 
game  of  life  and  death.  Was  it  not  a  happy 
thought  of  mine  to  provide  you  with  such  an 
entertainment?  I  believe,"  added  the  King  re- 
flectively, "  that  the  Romans  thoroughly  under- 
stood women." 

The  speaker's  glance  met  for  a  second  that  of 
the  lady;  both  smiled,  then  she  cast  down  her 
lids. 

"  I  am  afraid,  sir,"  said  she,  "  that  I  have  very 
little  Roman  courage  about  me.  I  am  afraid  that 
I  should  have  sickened  in  the  circus.  But  Your 
Majesty  is  jesting,  I  am  sure ;  our  professor's  life 
is  too  precious  to  all  of  us  to  be  lightly  risked." 

"  Well,"  said  the  King,  still  smiling,  and  glan- 
cing across  her  towards  Rochester,  who  felt  a  little 
surprised  at  the  cynical  attitude  of  this  enlight- 
ened Monarch,  "it  is  not  too  late  to  stop  him 
yet "  —  and  he  half  turned  round,  as  though  to 
call  up  his  Equerry. 

"  Oh  no  I "  cried  the  lady,  quickly  raising  her 
hand. 

The  King  moved  away,  laughing  to   himself, 


Young  April  201 

while  the  Countess,  turning  to  the  Duke,  said  in 
an  undertone : 

"If  I  know  our  countryman,  that  would  be  a 
harder  fall  for  his  pride  than  any  he  is  likely  to 
find  on  yonder  ground." 

As  she  spoke,  a  light  flush,  like  a  flame  within 
an  alabaster  lamp,  mounted  to  her  face,  and  the 
Duke,  gazing  at  her,  thought  that  for  the  smile 
of  such  a  woman  a  man  might  gaily  go  to  meet 
death  itself. 

By  this  time  the  trainer,  by  spur  and  whip,  had 
driven  his  steed  to  face  the  stand  and  there  reined 
it  to  a  halt.  It  was  an  exquisite,  satin-skinned 
creature,  but  its  bright  bay  coat  showed  foam- 
stained  and  distressed  already,  its  ears  were 
thrown  back,  its  eyeballs  starting.  The  rider 
glanced  up  and  saluted,  then  sat  motionless  like 
a  bronze  statue  with  unrelaxing  hand  and  mien. 

"  What  an  ugly  brute  the  fellow  is ! "  said 
Rochester,  unpleasantly  struck  by  the  fleshy,  low- 
ering countenance. 

"  Say,  rather,  what  a  magnificent  animal ! "  said 
the  Countess.  "  See,  he  sits  that  fretting  steed  as 
though  he  were  one  with  it.  His  Majesty  spoke 
of  the  Roman  games  :  I  wonder  if  I  should  really 
have  liked  them?  What  a  gladiator  this  man 
might  have  been  !  "  she  added  musingly. 


2O2  Young  April 

She  disengaged  a  dainty  eyeglass  mounted  on  a 
long  handle,  delicately  chased  and  gemmed,  and 
lifted  it  to  her  eyes.  "  One  can  count  the  muscles 
of  his  thigh,"  she  remarked.  "  Ah !  Spencer 
approaches.  He  is  holding  spurs — no,  a  bit,  I 
declare.  Heavens  !  how  handsome  he  looks,  and 
what  a  contrast !  " 

The  watchers  above  now  saw,  rather  than  heard, 
the  Englishman  exchange  a  few  words  with  the 
trainer,  upon  which  the  latter  sullenly  dismounted 
and  went  to  the  mare's  head. 

"  Stand  back,  my  man,"  said  Spencer;  then,  tak- 
ing the  bridle  himself,  he  proceeded  to  soothe  and 
flatter  the  terrified  animal,  passed  his  hand  caress- 
ingly over  nose  and  neck,  drew  down  her  head  by 
the  forelock,  and  looked  into  her  eyes,  talking  to 
her  the  while  as  one  who  understood  all  that  was 
passing  in  her  mind.  As  she  submitted,  after  a 
moment  or  two,  with  evident  pleasure  to  his  hand- 
ling, he  next  deliberately  divested  her  of  her  bit,  a 
cumbrous  and  complicated  instrument  of  torture, 
and  with  a  firm  yet  delicate  hand  inserted  between 
the  bruised  jaws  the  simple  hunting-snaffle  which 
he  had  been  carrying. 

"  Great  God !  "  cried  a  grating  voice  at  Roches- 
ter's ear,  "  what  is  the  fellow  doing  ?  That  curb 
was  especially  devised  under  my  directions.  She 


Young  April  203 

will  be  quite  uncontrollable  now.  Madman  !  he 
wants  to  kill  the  mare  as  well  as  himself." 

"  Do  not  distress  yourself,  Herr  von  Sachs,"  re- 
plied Neuberg.  "  Mr.  Spencer  generally  knows 
what  he  is  about,  and  you  may  have  every  confi- 
dence that  if  he  attempts  to  ride  Zuleika  on  the 
snaffle,  it  is  because  she  can  best  be  ridden  on  the 
snaffle." 

Rochester  glanced  over  his  shoulder  to  see  Neu- 
berg smiling  confidently  down  upon  the  infuriated 
countenance  of  the  Master  of  the  Horse.  A  little 
further  away  the  King,  a  thundercloud  gathering 
upon  his  brow,  stood  with  folded  arms.  It  was 
evident  that  the  Philosopher's  favour  was  trem- 
bling in  the  balance. 

"  I  hope  there  is  really  no  danger,"  the  Queen 
was  heard  to  murmur,  glancing  apprehensively  at 
her  Royal  spouse. 

Below,  Spencer,  his  hand  upon  the  mare's  glossy 
shoulder,  stood  watching  her  as  she  craned  her 
neck  and  champed  her  new  bit  with  evident  relief. 
He  held  up  Herr  von  Sachs's  model  a  moment,  as 
if  to  show  the  King  its  monstrous  links  and  curves, 
then  tossed  it  with  a  disgusted  look  to  the  trainer. 
Then  he  gathered  the  reins  slowly  into  his  grasp, 
and  mounted  easily  —  so  easily  that  it  seemed  as 
if  it  must  be  the  simplest  matter  in  the  world. 


204  Young  April 

There  was  a  second's  breathless  pause  ;  the  mare 
plunged,  flung  up  her  head,  and  flung  out  her  feet. 
Spencer  leaned  forward,  soothing  and  flattering 
once  more.  All  at  once  she  broke  under  his  touch 
into  a  hand-gallop,  and  round  the  field  they  flew 
with  the  sweep  of  a  swallow. 

"  Ah,"  cried  the  Countess  softly,  breaking  the 
silence,  "  beautiful !  That  is  beautiful !  How  he 
sits !  Like  a  Greek  hero.  See  the  ease  of  grip, 
the  grace  of  that  leg  from  hip  to  toe ;  it  is  that  of 
the  young  Lapitha  on  the  Parthenon  frieze.  And 
what  paces  has  that  mare !  Velvet —  music ! " 

"  Herr  von  Sachs,"  said  the  King,  turning  sud- 
denly round  to  the  officer,  who,  livid,  had  with- 
drawn from  the  balustrade,  "  do  not  go  away.  On 
the  contrary,  come  here  and  take  a  lesson  in  horse- 
manship." 


XXI 

"  Si  par  aventure  on  s'enquSte 
Qui  m'a  valu  telle  conquete  — 
C'est  1'allure  de  mon  cheval  .  .  ." 

A.  DE   MUSLET. 

THE  grass  was  vivid  green  below,  the  sky  deli- 
cate blue  in  the  distance,  gay,  dappled-white  over- 
head; the  breeze  blew  from  the  south-east  and 
shook  the  budding  branches  in  wanton  merriment ; 
the  sun  shone  on  the  saplings  with  the  love  of  the 
father  for  the  growing  beings  of  his  making. 
Young  April  reigned  supreme. 

Rochester's  soul  unfolded  like  the  striving  nature 
around  him  to  a  hundred  new  and  sweet  impres- 
sions —  expanded  with  a  feeling  of  joyous  life 
which  was  almost  poignant.  Upon  her  sudden 
outcry  of  admiration,  the  Countess  had  turned  to 
him  for  sympathy ;  for  a  minute  she  had  laid  her 
hand,  lithely  and  warmly  alive,  as  if  unconsciously, 
upon  his  wounded  arm,  and  the  very  pain  of  the 
pressure  was  delight.  He  had  looked  for  a  moment 
close  into  her  eyes,  now  dark  with  a  sudden  dila- 

205 


2o6  Young  April 

tion  of  pupil.  This  emotion  of  hers  was  not  aroused 
by  him,  but  he  could  have  sworn  that  before  hand 
and  gaze  were  withdrawn,  some  soft  acknowledg- 
ment of  his  own  well-favoured  presence  had  been 
granted  to  him. 

In  the  flush  of  this  new  joy  he  felt  generous 
enough  to  be  able  to  regard  his  countryman's 
success  below  with  almost  pleasurable  admiration. 

Neuberg,  with  dancing  blue  eyes  and  an  ever- 
recurring  smile  on  his  good-humoured  lip,  was 
swimming  in  unmixed  satisfaction.  The  Court 
ladies,  grouped  together  in  colours  as  faintly 
bright  as  the  beds  of  spring  hyacinths  behind 
them  that  sent  their  matchless  incense  abroad 
with  every  swing  of  the  breeze,  fluttered  and 
twittered  together.  The  King,  although  keeping 
Sachs  wincing  under  the  occasional  roll  of  his 
eye,  now  let  the  full  effulgence  of  his  Royal 
favour  shine  out  where  but  a  few  moments  be- 
fore he  had  shown  nothing  but  gathering  clouds. 

If  his  Master  of  the  Horse  had  proved  himself 
an  ass,  at  least  his  chosen  guide  and  friend,  his 
Philosopher,  had  proved  himself  more  than  equal 
to  the  occasion;  the  Royal  perspicacity  was  rati- 
fied: it  was  well  for  him  who  had  thus  ratified 
it. 

Unconscious  alike  of  admiration,  astonishment, 


Young  April  207 

or  gracious  approval,  the  Philosopher  and  the 
mare,  thoroughly  enjoying  themselves  in  each 
other's  company,  were  careering  round  the  en- 
closure, where  the  excellence  of  the  turf,  the 
beauty  of  the  day,  the  light,  kind  hand  of  the 
one  and  the  admirable  paces  of  the  other,  com- 
bined to  intoxicate  their  spirits. 

"Did  I  not  say  that  my  old  Michael  always 
knows  what  he  is  about?"  said  Neuberg,  as  the 
rider  now  came  quietly  trotting  towards  them 
once  more. 

"Bravo!"  said  the  King  affably.  The  Pro- 
fessor drew  up  gently  below  the  terrace  and, 
taking  off  his  hat,  bowed  and  looked  up  smiling. 
There  was  an  immediate  sound  of  fair  clapping 
hands,  enthusiastic  if  thin.  "  Well,  Mr.  Spencer," 
said  the  King,  "I  declare  we  would  put  you  at 
the  head  of  our  stables  were  it  not  that  we  can- 
not spare  you  from  our  council-room;  but  you 
must  teach  us  your  secret." 

"Sire,"  said  Spencer,  as  still  bare-headed  he 
bent  forward  and  flattered  the  satin  neck  that 
arched  itself  under  the  caress,  "there  is  no  se- 
cret. It  is  but  the  simple  rule  which  may  ap- 
ply to  our  dealings  alike  with  man  and  beast. 
How  often  are  beings  charged  with  vice  which 
is  but  that  of  their  masters'  making!  Your 


Young  April 

Majesty  remembers,  perhaps,  what  our  Shake- 
speare says " 

44 Ah,  I  expected  you  there,"  cried  the  King; 
"well,  what  says  your  Shakespeare?" 

444 Deal  mildly  with  his  youth:  for  hot  young 
oolts,  being  raged,  do  rage  the  more.' ' 

"Does  he  say  so  indeed?  Well,  Mr.  Spencer, 
you  seem  at  any  rate  to  be  on  tolerable  under- 
standing with  that  incurably  vicious  animal  — 
eh,  Colonel  Sachs?  How  do  you  like  her,  my 
friend?" 

44 Like  her!"  echoed  Spencer.  His  voice  was 
wont  to  wax  rich  and  loud  under  the  stress  of 
any  enthusiasm;  it  now  rolled  up  to  them  with- 
out the  loss  of  an  inflection.  "  Will  your  Maj- 
esty allow  me  once  more  to  borrow  better  words 
than  my  own?  Why,  'It  is  a  theme  as  fluent 
as  the  sea,  .  .  .  'Tis  a  subject  for  a  sovereign 
to  reason  on,  and  for  a  sovereign's  sovereign  to 
ride  on.  ...  When  I  bestride  her,  I  soar,  I  am 
a  hawk;  she  trots  the  air,  the  earth  sings  when 
she  touches  it;  the  basest  horn  of  her  hoof  is 
more  musical  than  the  pipe  of  Hermes " 

"Dear  sir,"  said  the  Queen,  laying  her  hand 
upon  the  King's  shoulder,  and  whispering  in  his 
ear. 

He  interrupted  her  with  a  rebuking  glance. 


Young  April  209 

"  It  was  even  my  intention,"  said  he,  with  dig- 
nity; and  she  fell  away  from  him  with  a  depre- 
cating air,  while  he  leant  once  more  over  the 
balustrade.  "  When  you  bestride  her  you  soar !  " 
repeated  he,  with  a  graciousness  of  tone  and  look 
which  no  one  knew  better  how  to  assume.  "  Then 
is  she  more  fitted  to  bear  genius.  Herr  von  Sachs, 
you  will  be  good  enough  to  see  that  Zuleika  be 
immediately  transferred  to  the  Palace  stables, 
and  to  understand  that  she  now  belongs  to  Mr. 
Spencer." 

Spencer  bowed  down  to  the  very  saddle-bow. 

Here  the  Countess,  who  had  not  moved  in  her 
attitude  of  intent  watching,  nor  shifted  her  ar- 
dent, sphinx-like  gaze  from  the  Cavalier-Philoso- 
pher, straightened  her  slender  figure,  and  turned 
round. 

"  A  noble  gift  nobly  bestowed ! "  cried  she, 
with  the  privilege  of  one  whose  voice  may  ever 
be  heard.  And  turning  to  the  King,  she  swept 
him  a  courtesy,  which  was  as  delicately  graceful 
in  sentiment  as  in  execution. 

The  King  acknowledged  the  salutation  by  a  bend 
of  the  head,  a  gleam  of  the  eye,  and  a  smile. 

"  I  am  cold,"  said  the  Queen,  drawing  a  white 
crSpe  shawl  about  her.  "  Ladies,  shall  we  not 
withdraw?"  She  sighed  and  shivered. 


2io  Yotmg  April 

Spencer  came  bounding  up  the  steps. 

As  the  little  flock  drew  away,  the  Countess 
lingered  a  moment,  looked  at  him  over  her  shoul- 
der, and  appeared  to  hesitate.  Then  she  slowly 
gathered  the  bunch  of  violets  from  her  belt. 
Spencer,  seeing  the  gesture  and  the  look,  went 
straight  to  her  with  outstretched  hands. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  not  all  —  half." 

She  divided  the  little  bunch,  gave  him  one 
half,  warm  and  fragrant,  and,  holding  the  other 
to  her  lips,  slowly  moved  on. 

"  All  the  honours  are  yours  this  afternoon,  my 
friend,"  said  the  King,  who,  with  a  reflective 
smile,  had  watched  Spencer  place  the  flowers  in 
his  breast-pocket. 

The  Countess  wheeled  round  at  the  words. 

"Kings  confer,"  said  she,  "subjects  receive, 
honours." 

She  swept  a  parting  look  upon  them,  which  fell 
before  the  King's  eye  with  the  effect  almost  of  an 
obeisance,  lingered  upon  Spencer  as  a  caress,  and 
rapidly  included  Rochester,  standing  a  little  in 
the  background,  with  what  he  felt  was  a  delicate 
encouragement. 


XXII 

"  And  therefore  take  the  present  time, 
With  a  hey  and  a  ho,  and  a  hey  nonino ! 
For  Love  is  crowned  with  the  prime 
In  the  spring  time,  the  only  pretty  ring  time  — 
Sweet  lovers  love  the  spring." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

ROCHESTER  woke  with  the  dawn,  and  was 
struck  with  a  sense  of  his  own  faithlessness.  He 
had  passed  the  first  day  in  the  capital  without 
even  trying  to  see  Eva!  Eva,  who  had  first  re- 
vealed to  his  blind  puppy  eyes  what  womanhood 
meant  to  manhood — Eva,  the  enchantress  who 
had  whisked  him  away  from  the  insufferable  life 
of  tutelage  into  the  fairy  realm  of  liberty,  adven- 
ture, endless  possibilities ;  the  kind  nurse  who  had 
watched  by  his  bedside,  and  wept  divine  womanly 
tears  over  his  wounds ;  against  whose  warm  bosom 
he  had  laid  his  cheek !  How  churlish !  how  fickle ! 
how  ungrateful ! 

What  spell  had  an  hour  in  the  company  of  an- 
other woman  wrought  upon  him  that  it  should 


212  Young  April 

thus  have  power  to  bedim,  belittle,  nay,  render 
him  almost  ashamed  of,  what  had  been  so  sweet, 
so  wonderful,  so  beautiful  ?  What  spirit  of  unrest 
and  trouble  had  this  Grafin  breathed  into  him  that 
he  should  be  driven  from  good-fellowship  to  spend 
the  hours  till  far  into  the  night  in  solitary  rambles, 
profitless,  fantastic  self-communings  ?  —  hours  full 
of  most  mysterious  yet  most  dear  distress.  Yet 
it  was  of  Eva  that  he  had  dreamed.  And  in  his 
dream  the  turmoil  had  given  place  to  peace. 

He  rose  as  early  as  his  host,  and,  having  seen 
him  depart  upon  his  morning  round  of  duty,  went 
forth  himself  to  seek  some  florist's  where  he  could 
purchase  a  peace-offering  that  would  smooth  the 
way  to  pardon. 

Bearing  triumphantly  a  vast  bundle  of  hot-house 
heliotrope,  faint-scented,  heavy-headed  hot-house 
roses,  and  a  sheaf  of  lily-of-the-valley,  prim,  slen- 
der, exquisite  in  its  pointed  green  and  tremulous 
white,  he  turned  his  steps  to  seek  the  quiet  street 
where  he  had  parted  from  the  Singer. 

The  Cathedral  bells  were  clashing.  An  April 
shower  of  rain  had  just  spent  its  pettish  fury,  and 
the  sun  shone  brightly  upon  a  fresh-washed  town. 
The  door  of  the  lodgings  was  open,  and  a  little 
red-cheeked,  bare-armed  maid  was  on  her  knees, 
slopping  water  over  the  flags  as  if  in  indoor  imita- 


Young  April  213 

tion  of  the  skies.  She  nodded  with  an  innocently 
rosy  smile  at  the  pretty,  pale  young  gentleman. 
"  Oh  yes,  the  lady  was  up ;  would  he  give  himself 
the  trouble  to  walk  straight  up  the  stairs  and 
knock  at  the  first  door?" 

And  as  he  mounted  the  narrow  wooden  steps 
Eva's  glorious  voice  come  flooding  down  to  him, 
as  liquid,  as  free,  and  as  golden  as  the  spring  sun- 
shine itself.  He  remembered  the  first  time  he  had 
drunk  in  that  sound  —  not  quite  a  week  ago.  How 
far  back  it  seemed !  Eva's  voice  had  already  be- 
come a  part  of  his  life. 

He  stood  a  moment  outside  the  door,  listening 
to  her  brisk  step,  to  the  interrupted  cadence  of  her 
song ;  then  he  knocked,  and,  being  unheard,  gently 
opened  the  door. 

Eva,  with  a  white  kerchief  tied  over  her  stream- 
ing hair,  clad  in  a  flowered  muslin  morning  gown, 
crackling  clean  from  the  wash,  open  to  the  throat 
and  short  to  the  elbow,  was  flitting  about  the 
room,  shifting  the  furniture,  rearranging  her 
flowers,  giving,  it  seemed,  the  thousand  and  one 
dainty  touches  to  her  surroundings  by  which 
women  love  to  bring  their  chattels  into  harmony 
with  themselves. 

There  was  a  wholesome  freshness  in  the  very 
air.  The  plain  little  room  shone  with  cleanliness. 


214  Young  April 

Neuberg's  spring  flowers  bloomed  and  exhaled 
fresh  scents  of  field  and  wood  from  an  old-fash- 
ioned majolica  bowl. 

Eva,  with  her  long  ropes  of  hair  curling  and 
crisping  as  they  dried  after  the  bath,  with  her 
round  white  arms,  her  fine-grained  flushing  cheek, 
her  spotless  muslin,  was  herself  as  sweet,  as  fresh, 
as  fragrant  as  any  wood-blossom. 

She  whisked  round  suddenly  and  saw  her  visitor. 

"  So,"  said  she,  and  looked  at  him  for  a  moment 
with  round  eyes  and  pursed,  grave  lips.  Then  she 
made  him  a  dip,  like  a  country  girl.  "  La ! "  she 
cried,  "  and  who  may  this  fine  gentleman  be  ? " 
Next  she  straightened  herself,  folded  her  arms,  and 
measured  him  with  proud  and  reproachful  look. 
"  Ah,  you  may  well  blush,  young  man !  One  day 
at  Court  and  old  friends  forgot ! " 

"  I  protest,"  he  cried ;  but  the  fine  ingenuous 
shades  of  crimson  that  chased  each  other  over  his 
cheek  protested  louder  and  more  truthfully.  "I 
had  the  headache  last  night,  and  was  not  company 
for  a  cat." 

"Oh,  is  that  what  you  call  it,"  said  she,  "the 
headache  ?  I  thought  it  was  the  heart  had  been  at 
fault.  There,  I  dare  say  it  was  both.  It  is  the 
way  with  children,"  she  continued  from  the  pretty 
height  of  her  own  twenty  years'  experience.  "  A 


Young  April  215 

new  toy,  a  new  game  —  good-morning ! "  She  blew 
a  kiss  into  the  air,  unfolded  her  arms,  shook  out  the 
pleats  of  her  flowery  gown,  and  was  once  again  the 
original  Beau-Sourire.  "  Now,"  said  she,  with  her 
wide  smile  —  that  smile  which  seemed  to  lay  her 
frank,  joyous  soul  bare  before  the  naked  eye,  so  dif- 
ferent from  the  other  smile  that  had  bewitched, 
mystified,  him  yesterday,  that  had  promised,  and  yet 
held  close,  things  unutterable  —  "now,  I  wonder 
who  those  flowers  are  for  ?  For  me  ?  Is  it  possible  ? 
How  good  of  you !  Oh,  the  darlings !  You  know 
that  when  I  see  flowers,  I  always  want  to  gather 
them.  When  I  see  pretty  children,  I  always  want 
to  hug  them.  And  I  think,"  added  Eva,  as  she 
dandled  her  posy  and  dipped  her  face  into  it,  "  I 
will  tell  you  a  little  secret :  I  think  I  like  to  have 
people's  love,  too.  It  is  warm;  it  is  good;  it  is 
life."  She  paused,  and  looked  beyond  him;  and 
the  old,  wistful  yearning  grew  in  her  eyes.  "  And 
yet,"  she  said,  "there  is  one  blossom  which  it 
seems  will  never  bloom  for  me,  and  I  fear  that  I 
shall  never  clasp  but  other  mothers'  children. 
Well,  who  knows?  This  is  the  green  month  of 
hope.  Shall  every  dumb  dove  have  her  chosen 
mate,  every  ewe  her  lamb,  and  not  Eva?" 

She  threw  her  arms  up  behind  her  head  and 
stood  in  the  sunpour,  and  Rochester  thought  he  had 


216  Young  April 

never  seen  so  glorious  an  embodiment  of  youth  and 
beauty  and  womanhood.  He  could  almost  hear  the 
rich  red  blood  beat  in  her  arteries,  feel  the  strength 
of  the  sinews  beneath  that  satin  skin,  the  ripe  per- 
fection of  life.  Was  such  a  one  to  have  no  mate  ? 

Yesterday's  enthralment  seemed  still  to  lie  in  his 
brain,  an  unsolved  problem,  a  tantalization  that  was 
almost  a  pain.  But  his  heart  expanded  to  the  old 
warm  charm  with  a  sense  of  unmixed  rest  and 
pleasure  —  "  Dear  earthly,  human,  laughing  Eva ! " 
as  Neuberg  said. 

"Eva  dear,"  said  he  coaxingly,  in  the  familiar 
way  which,  unrebuked,  he  had  likewise  been  per- 
mitted to  assume,  "I  feel  that  I  could  love  you 
very  much,  if  you  would  let  me." 

Eva  wheeled  upon  him  as  he  sidled  up  to  her 
with  his  left  arm  extended  invitingly,  arrested 
his  progress  with  one  quick  glance,  and  then  burst 
out  laughing. 

"You?"  said  she;  "I  dare  say.  No,  no,  my 
dear  little  man,  neither  you  with  your  heliotrope, 
nor  yet  Neuberg,  poor  fellow !  with  his  primroses. 
Very  sweet  they  are,  and  dear  boys  are  both  of 
you  —  and  I  should  be  the  poorer  without  them 
and  you.  But  there  is  a  note  you  have  not  struck 
to  start  the  song  of  my  soul,  and  strike  it,  I  fear, 
neither  of  you  ever  will,  and  so  there  is  no  good 


Young  April  217 

serenading.     And,  by  the  way,  how  is  the  arm? 
What  brings  you  here  so  early?" 

"  I  dreamed  of  you,"  said  the  Duke,  with  a  sen- 
timental look. 

"  Oh !  "  said  Eva,  as  she  vanished  into  the  next 
room  to  fill  a  flower  vase.  "And  was  I  very 
nice?"  she  asked  when  she  came  back.  "Take 
care :  dreams,  you  know,  go  by  contraries.  Well, 
since  you  are  here,  you  may  stay  a  little  while ; 
but  you  find  me  busy.  I  have,  you  see,  just 
washed  my  hair,  and  when  I  have  tidied  my  room 
—  since  I  had  to  send  that  ungrateful  pair  of  ser- 
vants of  mine  packing,  I  have  everything  to  do 
myself  —  I  must  begin  to  study  my  part.  You 
shall  be  audience  —  critic,  if  you  like." 

The  Duke  sat  astride  on  one  of  the  cane-chairs, 
and  watched  her  as  she  moved.  She  took  a  sprig 
of  heliotrope,  a  rose,  and  a  spike  of  lily-of-the-val- 
ley,  and  fastened  them  in  her  bosom.  Then  she 
bent  her  head  and  sniffed  at  them,  and  looked  up 
and  smiled  at  the  donor.  "  Dear  Eva ! "  thought 
he  again  to  himself,  and  his  whole  being  swam  in 
a  sunny  sea  of  content. 

"  How  do  you  like  my  rooms  ? "  she  asked, 
whisking  the  kerchief  off  her  head  to  wipe  up 
some  water  that  had  overflowed  from  a  vase. 
"  Neuberg  chose  them  for  me  —  the  good  soul !  to 


218  Young  April 

the  very  letter  what  I  had  commanded.  Comforta- 
bly within  my  means.  With  people,  respectable, 
proper  —  oh,  how  proper !  And  a  good  motherly 
dame  into  the  bargain :  my  very  address  is  a  let- 
ter of  recommendation.  For  a  poor  girl  alone," 
said  she,  pausing  a  second  to  make  a  ball  of  her 
kerchief  and  throw  it  through  the  half-open  door, 
"with  you  heedless  young  men  trooping  in  with 
bouquets  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
advantage  is  enormous !  They  look  home-like 
already,  do  they  not?" 

Following  her  glance,  Rochester  gazed  round 
upon  a  curious  mixture  of  meagre  simplicity  and 
luxury.  A  couple  of  richly  brocaded  cushions,  out 
of  the  travelling  carriage,  lay  on  the  plain  green 
rep  sofa;  silver-mounted  crystals  were  strewn  on 
the  ugly  little  chiffonier ;  a  tiny  Vernis-Martm  clock 
stood  on  the  extinct  white  china  stove  ;  a  piece  of 
Persian  embroidery,  glowing  with  the  tones  of  a 
peacock's  feather,  was  flung  over  the  new  piano. 

"In  Vienna,"  said  she,  "one  has  to  fight  so 
hard  for  one's  position,  that  I  should  have  been 
lost  had  I  been  seen  in  rooms  like  these.  I  had 
my  carriage  there,  young  man,  and  two  men- 
servants,  besides  that  wretched  girl.  Not  a  penny 
laid  by,  I  assure  you.  But  here,  in  this  little 
place,  I  shall  economize."  She  laughed,  as  if  the 


Young  April  219 

bare  idea  were  a  huge  joke.  "La!  there  goes 
the  door-bell!  My  accompanist,  I  am  sure,  and 
my  hair  not  dry  yet !  "  She  ran  her  fingers 
through  it,  and  held  it  out  from  her  shoulders 
like  wings;  it  fell  below  her  waist,  with  the 
luxuriance  that  characterized  the  whole  woman. 

"Never  mind,"  she  said,  and  threw  it  back. 
"It  will  be  all  the  better  for  the  disconsolate 
heroine.  Come  in ! " 

The  accompanist  halted  on  the  threshold  to 
stare  from  the  dishevelled  Diva  to  the  pale,  cool 
young  man  with  his  arm  in  a  sling,  who  seemed 
established  in  her  intimacy.  He  had  a  long  sal- 
low face,  protuberant  eyes,  long,  straw-coloured, 
plastered  hair.  Nervousness  was  oozing  from 
every  pore.  Poverty  rode  him  in  his  garments, 
but  on  his  brow  sat  Music. 

The  Duke  glanced  at  him,  and  then  to  Eva 
with  a  smile ;  but  she  had  suddenly  become 
metamorphosed  into  another  woman  —  an  Eva 
Visconti  he  had  not  yet  met,  Eva  the  worker. 

"Good-morning,  Herr  Prziborzki;  you  have 
brought  the  score  I  see.  Come,  my  friend,  to 
the  clavier;  we  have  a  hard  day  before  us." 

He  struck  a  note,  she  pitched  her  voice.  His 
bony  fingers  flew  with  a  master  touch  and  ran  in 
pearly  ripples. 


22O  Young  April 

Now  they  were  both  all  music,  and  the  Duke 
gazed  as  a  man  might  upon  the  evolutions  of 
beings  from  another  sphere.  They  repeated, 
they  hung  upon  one  note ;  she  tried  it  from  one 
attitude,  then  from  another;  she  trilled  till  the 
air  vibrated  again;  now  from  wide-open  mouth 
issued  a  rushing  torrent  of  sound,  which  shook 
the  narrow  limits  of  the  room  with  its  impetu- 
ous volume,  now  a  rivulet  of  melody  as  smooth 
as  a  silk  thread  made  the  world  swoon. 

At  length  Eva  stopped. 

"A  little  respite,"  she  said. 

Herr  Prziborzki  mopped  his  dripping  brow  and 
became  once  more  acutely  conscious  of  his  insig- 
nificant personality. 

"  Astonished,  are  you,  Duke  ?  "  cried  Eva ;  and 
Rochester  became  aware  that  his  eyes  and  mouth 
were  still  round  signals  of  wonder.  "  You 
thought  singers  grew  on  the  walls  like  peaches, 
I  suppose  ?  that  one  had  a  voice  like  the  nightin- 
gale ;  one  had  only  to  open  one's  beak  and  out  it 
comes?  Charming  gift,  happy  bird!  Ah,  friend 
Prziborzki,  we  know  better,  do  we  not?  Music 
is  a  hard  mistress,  and  her  votaries  are  slaves.  A 
voice,  sir,  is  as  hard  to  build  as  a  palace.  You 
may  have  the  site,  you  may  have  the  stones  — 
and  you  must  have  them,  of  course;  but  before 


Young  April  221 

you  can  raise  the  edifice  which  is  going  to  delight 
yourself  and  all  beholders,  ah  me,  what  labour! 
Stone  by  stone,  note  by  note  !  What  precautions  ! 
An  indigestion  —  a  hurricane!  a  sore  throat — an 
earthquake  !  Cracked  from  roof  to  cellar  for  your 
pains.  And,  O  Lord,  the  repairs  !  And  then," 
she  went  on,  "  it  is  not  as  if  one  were  a  great  com- 
poser, or  painter,  or  architect,  or  writer:  barely 
have  you  had  time  to  breathe  and  enjoy,  and 
say :  It  is  done,  when  —  patatra !  —  the  whole  pal- 
ace comes  crumbling  down  about  your  ears.  Fin- 
ished !  finished !  Before  you  know  where  you  are, 
you  are  old  and  silent,  and  only  memory  is  left. 
Ah,  it  is  but  fair  that  the  singer  should  reign 
Queen  —  while  she  lasts!" 

The  idea,  as  she  formulated  it,  seemed  to  strike 
her  with  a  cruel  force.  With  a  sorrowful  curve 
upon  her  mouth  she  stood  for  a  moment  staring 
out  into  the  blue,  like  one  reading  her  fate.  The 
poor  musician  rolled  his  pale  eye  towards  her,  the 
words  of  burning  sympathy  welling  up  in  his  soul, 
only  to  perish  upon  his  bashful  tongue. 

"Come,  come,"  said  she,  all  of  a  sudden,  and 
tapped  him  hard  on  the  shoulder,  "  to  work  I  We 
will  keep  to  the  first  act,  if  you  please." 

And  wires  and  voice  fell  once  more  into  har- 
mony. 


XXIII 

"Thy  heart  is  big; 
Get  thee  apart  and  weep." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

ACEOSS  the  thrill  of  a  bravura  passage  there 
rang  from  the  street  below  a  clatter  of  horses' 
hoofs.  A  minute  later  the  jingling  of  spurs,  the 
sound  of  a  steel  scabbard  smiting  the  banisters, 
the  creaking  of  the  wooden  stairs  under  a  hasty 
tread,  mingled  with  the  dying  fall  of  a  high  note. 

"  Come  in !  "  sang  she,  anticipating  the  knock, 
and  weaving  the  words  into  her  score. 

Blue  and  silver  rilled  the  doorway,  surmounted 
by  Neuberg's  smile ;  a  little  behind,  the  serene 
lines  of  Spencer's  countenance  were  cut  like  a 
cameo  upon  the  shadow.  Eva  turned  her  eyes 
upon  them,  forbidding  interruption,  and  her  tap- 
ping ringer  peremptorily  maintained  the  accom- 
panist in  a  straight  course,  as  he  showed  sign  of 
wavering. 

With  a  pantomimic  grimace  at  Rochester,  ex- 
pressing mock  surprise  and  indignation  at  rinding 
himself  thus  early  forestalled,  Neuberg  slid  into  a 


Yoimg  April  223 

chair  and  bent  forward,  his  elbows  on  his  knees, 
to  drink  in  with  ears  and  eyes  every  grace  of  his 
beloved.  Folding  his  arms  reposefully,  Spencer 
leant  against  the  door-post,  and  soon  his  eyes 
wandered  from  the  face  of  the  singer  to  the  square 
of  blue  sky,  the  network  of  budding  lime-trees 
outside  the  window.  And  upon  the  wings  of  her 
voice  his  thoughts  seemed  to  take  flight  to  distant 
regions. 

The  heroine's  last  song  in  the  first  act  was,  of 
course,  a  love-song,  and  Rochester  soon  became 
aware,  with  some  amusement,  a  little  pity,  and  a 
good  deal  of  pique  (not  the  pique  of  love,  but  the 
pique  of  a  young  man's  self-love,  which  is,  per- 
haps, the  most  constant,  the  most  irritable,  the 
most  tormenting  of  all  his  soul's  companions), 
that  it  was  to  Spencer  alone  that  Eva  sang  it; 
that,  moreover,  she  now  sang  with  a  passion 
which  far  outstripped  the  former  careful  art  and 
method. 

The  last  note  melted  away  in  such  exquisite 
gradation  that  it  seemed  only  the  absolute  silence 
that  revealed  its  cessation. 

Eva  stood,  blushing,  and  looked  to  Spencer  as  a 
child  looks  for  approval.  He  woke  with  a  start, 
as  from  a  dream,  came  forward,  took  both  her 
hands,  and  kissed  them. 


224  Young  April 

"  Oh,  my  dear  child,"  said  he,  "  you  have  trans- 
ported me  —  I  don't  know  where  —  into  those  in- 
describable lands  which  are  beyond  the  reach  of 
words !  What  a  power  it  is  that  you  carry  in 
that  white  throat!  For  not  only  do  you  voice 
the  souls  of  great  musicians,  who  without  you 
would  be  dumb,  but  you  set  other  men's  souls 
taking  up  the  strain  and  making  music  too." 

She  smiled,  but  her  eye  was  wistful  and  dissatis- 
fied as  it  searched  his  face.  She  felt  the  emotion 
raised  in  him,  felt,  as  it  were,  the  presence  of 
Love;  but  a  thousand  instincts  told  her  she  had 
nevertheless  no  real  share  in  it. 

"  Divine  Eva ! "  said  Neuberg  rhapsodically, 
caught  a  frill  of  her  starched  muslin,  and  kissed 
it  fervently. 

"  Does  —  does  the  gracious  lady  require  me  any 
more  ?  "  stammered  Herr  Prziborzki,  turning  away 
a  fluttering  and  apprehensive  eye,  like  that  of  a 
netted  rabbit. 

She  hesitated  a  moment ;  then : 

"  Come  again  at  five,"  she  said.  "  I  have  had 
enough  for  this  morning." 

In  an  agony  of  politeness,  the  musician  made 
his  four  separate  bows,  found  himself  mercifully 
near  the  door,  and  fled. 

"  Is  this  the  sort  of  early  worm  you  pick  up  of  a 


Young  April  225 

morning,  you  nightingale  ?  "  said  Neuberg,  idiotic 
with  irrepressible  love,  pointing  to  Rochester  as 
he  spoke. 

"  It  is  not  usually  so  much  to  the  worm's  advan- 
tage to  be  up  so  early,"  retorted  Rochester,  with 
some  complacency. 

"  Leave  my  wormlet  alone,"  said  Eva.  "  And, 
talking  of  little  worms,  about  that  foundling  of 
yours,  Spencer :  has  anyone  thought  of  making 
the  poor  thing  a  Christian?  I  want  to  be  god- 
mother, you  know.  She  shall  be  called  Eva,  poor 
little  daughter  of  Eve  ! " 

"  You  women  keep  the  world  warm  with  your 
kind  hearts,"  said  Spencer  in  a  low  voice.  "  An- 
other beautiful  lady,"  he  went  on  —  and  a  little 
embarrassment,  strange  in  one  who  was  never  yet 
known  to  be  embarrassed,  crept  into  voice  and 
manner  —  "  has  forestalled  you.  So  harmoniously 
do  gracious  thoughts  spring !  " 

Eva's  whole  bright  face  changed,  darkened  like 
a  suddenly  clouded  sky. 

"Ah!  And  what  is  the  child's  name  to  be?" 
she  asked  at  length  in  a  voice  from  which  all  the 
life  had  fled. 

"  Julia,"  replied  he. 

"Julia,"  repeated  she,  and  lingered  over  the 
liquid  syllables  with  harsh  intonation. 


226  Young  April 

Rochester  felt  himself  flush.  Neuberg  averted 
his  eyes. 

"I  think,"  said  Eva  abruptly,  "if  you  do  not 
mind,  my  good  friends,  that  I  am  very  tired.  I 
must  ask  you  to  leave  me." 

She  strove  to  cloak  her  pain  with  a  dignity  as 
new  to  her  as  Spencer's  conscious  and  troubled  air 
to  him.  The  three  men  filed  out  with  a  futile 
attempt  to  carry  off  the  situation. 

Outside  in  the  street  they  halted  for  a  moment 
and  looked  at  each  other. 

"  Oh,  what  a  selfish  animal  I  am !  "  cried  Neu- 
berg, and  stamped  his  foot.  "  Here  have  I  been 
rejoicing  these  two  days  to  think  that  the  coast 
was  being  cleared  for  me.  And  it  was  sorrow  pre- 
paring for  my  poor  girl.  She  would  never  give  up 
hope  before  —  till  she  knew  you  loved  elsewhere." 

"I  think,"  said  Spencer,  "that  I  will  walk  home 
alone." 

"  And  so  will  I,"  said  Neuberg. 

Rochester  lingered  awhile.  Another  storm  was 
threatening  in  the  April  sky.  The  street  had 
grown  quite  dark.  In  his  mind's  eye  he  saw 
Eva,  her  hands  outstretched  on  the  table,  her  face 
pressed  down  upon  them,  weeping.  Yet  as  he 
walked  slowly  and  aimlessly  forward,  he  found 
himself  repeating  the  name  of  "Julia." 


XXIV 

"Un  piege  de  nature,  une  rose  muscade 
Dans  laquelle  1'amour  se  tient  en  erabuscade  1 
Qui  connait  son  sourire  a  connu  le  parfait ; 
Elle  fait  de  la  grace  avec  rien  —  elle  fait 
Tenir  tout  le  divin  dans  un  geste  quelconque, 
Et  tu  ne  saurais  pas,  Venus,  monter  en  conque, 
Ni  toi,  Diane,  marcher  dans  les  grand  bois  fleuris 
Comme  elle  .  .  ." 

ROSTAND. 

"  I  WILL  inform  the  Countess  of  your  presence," 
said  the  maid  to  the  Duke. 

She  was  tall  and  lithe,  with  that  false  air  of  her 
mistress  which  these  confidential  servants  have 
the  talent  of  taking  to  themselves.  She  turned 
with  a  flounce  of  skirts  and  lace  apron,  and  left 
upon  him  an  impression  of  flashing  teeth,  a  sallow 
face,  and  half-hidden  rose-coloured  knot.  She  was 
coquettish,  somehow,  yet  eminently  de  grande 
maison. 

He  had  been  handed  from  the  Palace  door- 
keeper to  the  Jager  that  guarded  the  discreet 
portals  of  the  Countess  de  Lucena's  apartments; 
from  him  delivered  to  a  supple-backed,  mellifluous 
227 


228  Young  April 

Italian  major-domo,  who,  while  conducting  him 
to  the  ante-chamber,  professed  himself  unable  to 
pronounce  upon  his  mistress's  readiness  to  receive 
visits.  But  the  soubrette  who  now  admitted  him 
into  the  inner  sanctuary  seemed  to  carry  the  key 
of  the  situation.  She  took  the  Duke's  card  and 
declared  that  her  ladyship  would  be  with  him  in 
a  few  minutes. 

It  was  part  of  the  young  Englishman's  upbring- 
ing that  he  should  regard  the  ceremonial  that  sur- 
rounds rank  as  a  natural  and  necessary  element 
in  existence.  While  throwing  himself  heart  and 
soul  into  the  almost  Bohemian  emancipation  of 
his  present  life,  he  never  lost  the  consciousness 
that  it  would  be  but  a  brief  experience ;  that  his 
passage  through  it  was  a  mere  caprice;  that  his 
real  vocation  lay  amid  the  dignities,  the  honours, 
and  the  formalities  that  awaited  him  in  England. 

It  was,  therefore,  with  a  sensation  of  returning  to 
his  own  proper  atmosphere  that  he  trod  the  thick 
pile  carpets  and  that  he  coldly  addressed  the  low- 
voiced,  decorous  attendants.  While  awaiting  his 
hostess,  he  looked  round  upon  her  habitation  with 
approving  eyes. 

The  French  taste,  the  florid  gilding,  the  general 
crimson  magnificence  of  what  he  had  seen  of  the 
King's  Palace  had  seemed  to  his  fastidious  eye 


Young  April  229 

garish  and  barbarous.  Here  was  what  he  was 
accustomed  to.  At  first,  all  looked  very  subdued : 
brocades  mellowed  by  age  into  such  softness  of 
tints  that  the  magnificence  of  their  texture  passed 
almost  unperceived;  inlaid  cabinets  of  Italian 
work,  over  the  mosaic  of  whose  curved  flanks  the 
matchless  polish  of  years  had  cast  a  luminous  yel- 
low glow  like  that  which  at  once  softens  and 
heightens  the  tones  of  old  pictures.  There  was 
a  flash  of  olive  bronze  in  corners  and  recesses ;  a 
sheen  of  painted  leather;  a  glint  of  gold  on  the 
curvetting  Florentine  frames.  Here  an  enamel 
glowed  with  deep  fires  from  dim  settings ;  there, 
books  in  ancient  garbs,  all  brown  and  ivory  yellow, 
ran  an  uneven  race  around  the  walls,  hand-high. 
Brown  brightening  into  gold,  melting  into  amber, 
fading  yet  again  to  ivory :  that  was  the  pervading 
motif —  the  palms,  rising  tropically  high,  the  bowls 
of  violets  purple  and  mauve,  the  single  jar  of  deli- 
cate lilac,  only  accentuated  the  ruling  harmony. 

If  a  woman  desires  to  create  a  strong  impres- 
sion, it  is  not  bad  policy  on  her  part  to  give  a 
man  time  to  absorb  the  atmosphere  of  her  usual 
surroundings  —  for  the  surroundings  reflect  her 
personality  as  the  mother-of-pearl  shell  the  pearl 
itself. 

As  Rochester  stood  and  gazed,  an  extraordinary 


230  Young  April 

impression  of  beauty,  of  costliness  and  voluptuous 
luxury  took  possession  of  his  senses.  Down  to 
the  smallest  detail  there  was  nothing  in  that  room 
that  did  not  seem  to  hare  an  artistic  as  well  as  an 
actual  value.  Bat,  aboTe  all,  it  was  the  Beautiful 
that  had  been  sought.  It  was  less  of  a  lady's 
boudoir  than  a  temple  to  the  cult  of  Beauty ;  and 
the  eye  and  the  hand  that  had  filled  it  had  been 
more  moved  by  the  antique  Greek  notion  than  by 
any  mediaeval  mysticism  or  latter-day  eclecticism. 
To  the  Countess  de  Lucena,  as  to  the  Greeks  of 
old,  the  Beautiful  seemed  to  have  found  its  high- 
est expression  in  the  perfection  of  the  human 
form.  No  single  one  of  the  many  exquisite  bronze 
figures  but  had  been  chosen  as  representing  some 
type  of  physical  beauty;  whether  it  were  the 
•almost  feminine  grace  of  a  young  Antinous,  or 
the  sapling  slenderness  of  an  Apollo;  the  airy 
figure  of  a  flying  Mercury  or  the  splendour  of  a 
Discobolns's  braced  muscles;  or  yet  the  calm, 
chaste  strength  of  a  Diana.  Nothing  that  hinted 
of  age  or  of  violent  emotion,  or  any  phase  of  the 
struggling  side  of  existence,  had  been  admitted 
within  these  walls  —  nothing  but  what  breathed 
of  the  flower  of  youth,  of  the  first  ripeness  of  man- 
hood, or  of  the  serenity  of  Godlike  power,  and  all 
else  in  the  room  was  made  cognate  with  these  types. 


Young  April  231 

The  Duke  looked  wondeiingly  around.  He  had 
seen  the  originals  of  many  of  these  treasures  in  his 
late  wanderings;  but  had  seen  them  with  tired, 
indifferent  eyes.  Here,  for  the  first  time,  to  his 
naturally  refined  soul,  the  eternal  power  of  beauty, 
the  true  spirit  of  art,  began  to  whisper  their  reveal- 
ing messages. 

And  when  an  unseen  door  rolled  noiselessly 
back,  and,  most  beautiful  of  all  beautiful  things 
in  that  deliberately  beautiful  room,  the  Countess 
herself  came  in  upon  him,  with  no  more  sound 
than  a  faint  rustle,  halted  on  the  great  lion's  skin 
before  the  hearth,  where  the  logs  smouldered  with 
faint  odours  of  forest  spice,  and  stood  a  moment, 
very  upright  and  still,  looking  at  him  smiling  with 
lids  half  closed,  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  some  won- 
derful antique  dream  of  divine  loveliness  had  been 
clothed  with  life  at  last. 

Her  garments  were  of  the  tints  of  the  morning 
mists,  faintly  violet;  her  hair,  an  impalpable 
brown,  sprang  nimbus-like  from  the  ivory  of  her 
face. 

u  Half  goddess  "  —  the  Duke  looked  at  her  with 
earnest,  ardent  young  eyes  —  "whole  goddess!1 
thought  he.    And  in  her  filmy  garb  he  seemed  to 
see  her  rise,  divine  and  dazzling — a  vision  materi- 
alized: Phoebe,  emerging  from  the  clouds — Phoebe, 


232  Young  April 

or  rather  Diana,  before  the  bewildered  gaze  of  the 
awakened  Endymion,  a  revelation  at  once  of  divinity 
and  of  love !  He  was  all  unconscious  that  to  her, 
with  his  own  stripling  grace,  he  looked,  despite  his 
modern  disguise,  as  if  the  bronze  'of  her  young  Nar- 
cissus had  taken  to  itself  a  warmth  of  living  flesh. 

"  It  is  very  good  of  you  to  come  and  see  me, 
Duke,"  said  the  goddess  in  English,  and  held  out 
her  hand. 

And  Rochester  fell  from  the  heights  of  Latmus. 

"  Wholly  grande  dame  !  "  —  the  very  incarnation 
of  modern  aristocracy,  civilization,  refinement. 
How  had  he  come  upon  such  heathen  thoughts  ? 

She  passed  over  his  momentary  confusion  with 
ease.  He  found  himself  seated  beside  her  on  the 
sofa,  talking  glibly  of  himself  and  of  his  affairs,  be- 
fore he  had  had  time  to  realize  how  it  came  about. 

She  knew  some  of  his  relations  in  England ;  in 
fact,  they  were  actually  connected  by  marriage. 
Her  father  had  known  his  during  the  latter's 
brief  diplomatic  career.  She  took  the  boy's  abso- 
lute independence  as  a  matter  of  fact,  touched 
upon  his  wanderings  without  surprise  or  too  much 
curiosity.  She  made  him  feel  a  man ;  she  made 
him  feel  the  Duke,  for  she  treated  him  as  an  equal, 
yet  with  a  subtle  show  of  due  appreciation  for  his 
rank. 


Young  April  233 

To  some  women  it  seems  a  great  art  to  make 
men  pleased  with  them.  But  there  are  a  few 
others  that  rise  to  the  higher  art  of  making  men 
pleased  with  themselves,  and  those  are  the  women 
whose  irresistible  fascination  puzzles  and  enrages 
their  less  successful  rivals. 

"And  so  you  have  been  in  Italy?"  she  said. 
"  My  Italy  !  the  land  of  beauty  !  You  know  "  — 
she  spoke  confidentially  —  "I  am  very  proud  of 
being  an  Englishwoman ;  I  would  not  exchange 
my  birthright  to  sit  on  a  throne.  But  though  I 
was  a  mere  child  when  I  went  to  Italy,  I  felt  as  if 
I  had  come  home :  everything  there  was  familiar 
to  me,  everything  sweet.  With  the  intellect,  you 
see,  I  am  English ;  with  the  heart,  a  daughter  of 
the  South.  Or,  as  I  sometimes  think,  it  is  only 
my  blood  that  is  English,  while  my  soul  is  that  of 
some  antique  Roman  lady  who  lived  in  a  dream 
of  marble  palaces,  or,  at  least,  of  some  early  renais- 
sance Tuscan  who  ruled  with  the  Medici  in  an 
age  given  up  to  the  glory  of  living.  Whatever  I 
was,  I  was  a  pagan,"  she  said.  "  Do  you  believe, 
Duke,  in  the  transmigration  of  souls  ?  " 

Here  she  smiled;  and  Rochester,  bewildered 
already,  lost  every  thread  of  connected  thought 
in  the  contemplation  of  those  curving  lips  and 
those  narrowing  eyes. 


234  Young  April 

"  I  do  not  know,"  he  stammered. 

"  Oh,  you,"  she  went  on,  with  just  a  faint  note 
of  laughter  that  rippled  the  veiled  evenness  of 
her  voice,  "of  course  not!  Are  you  not  going 
to  be  one  of  the  pillars  of  our  glorious  English 
Church  and  Constitution?  —  unless,  indeed,  you, 
too,  have  some  sort  of  a  pagan  soul  hidden,  un- 
known, within  you.  Do  you  know,  you  look  as 
if  you  might  have  known  the  days  when  the 
beautiful  gods  of  old  walked  the  earth  sometimes. 
Come,  confess:  you  remember  sacrificing  to  Pan 
in  some  mountain  temple  ?  I,  for  one,  remember 
distinctly  when  I  was  a  Canephora  in  the  pageants 
of  Spring.  Every  April  I  feel  it  within  me  :  I  am 
sure  you  do  the  same.  I  am  sure  we  met  in  those 
delicious  days  —  look  at  me,  have  you  forgotten  ? 
Only  two  thousand  years  —  you  cannot  have  for- 
gotten so  soon ! " 

She  looked  at  him ;  and  he,  looking  back  again, 
was  all  lost  in  the  wonder  of  eyes  that  seemed 
to  change  their  shade  from  light  to  dark,  from 
mockery  to  earnest,  like  cloud-reflecting  lakes: 
now  wide  open,  the  iris  shone  large,  yellow-gray, 
as  water  under  a  dull  sky ;  but  even  as  he  looked 
the  pupils  expanded  and  spread  and  enveloped 
him  in  a  soft,  velvet  twilight.  Whatever  soul 
he  had,  whether  antique  or  modern,  from  that 
moment  he  surrendered  it  to  her. 


Young  April  235 

"As  for  me,"  she  pursued  dreamily,  "I  am 
constantly  meeting  with  souls  that  I  have  known 
in  old-world  days  —  Mr.  Spencer,  for  instance ;  I 
am  convinced  I  knew  him  in  Attica,  when  he 
paced  the  Lycseum,  and  lured  by  the  music  of 
his  speech  all  that  was  noble  in  the  youth  of  the 
land." 

"Mr.  Spencer  seems  a  very  original  person," 
said  the  Duke,  with  a  shade  of  flatness  in  his 
tone.  Then,  half  choked  by  the  beating  of  his 
own  audacious  heart:  "What  did  we  do,"  he 
asked,  "  when  we  met  two  thousand  years  ago  ? " 

She  did  not  answer,  but  only  looked  at  him 
again,  and  presently  her  lips  parted  with  a  little 
secret  smile,  which  seeing,  for  very  innocence,  he 
blushed  and  cast  down  his  eyes.  When  she  next 
addressed  him,  she  had  fallen  back  into  the  easy 
manner  of  the  woman  of  the  world. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  "  how  I  must  be  shocking  you ! 
You  do  not  know  me  yet,  you  see.  Do  not  tell 
them  in  England  about  this  confession  of  faith  : 
let  them  think  that  my  creed  is  still  wrapped  up 
in  the  Thirty-nine  Articles."  And  she  laughed 
lightly. 

The  Duke  longed  to  speak,  to  find  something 
brilliant  to  say.  He  would  have  given  a  great  deal 
to  have  shown  himself  clever,  aspiring,  tender,  but 


236  Young  April 

did  not  know  how ;  if  he  had,  would  not  have  vent- 
ured. He  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  delicate  long 
fingers  and  filbert  nails  that  rested  on  the  rose- 
brocade  cushion  next  to  him,  and  his  thoughts  were 
whirled  along  the  current  of  what  seemed  a  wildly 
daring  vision :  the  bliss  indicible  of  laying  his  lips 
on  that  satin  skin  so  near  to  him. 

.  Was  it  possible  that  in  those  days  she  spoke  of 
he  might  have  been  allowed  this  favour  —  nay, 
could  it  have  been  possible  that  when  she  was  a 
flower-maiden  and  he  a  piping  shepherd  they  had 
been  lovers  .  .  .  and  he  had  kissed  her  lips  ?  At 
the  thought,  from  crimson  that  his  cheeks  had 
been,  they  went  quite  pale ;  and  because  the  feel- 
ing of  her  presence  became  an  agitation  too  great 
to  be  borne  with  dignity,  the  Duke  rose  to  take 
his  leave. 

He  bent  over  her  hand.  To  draw  near  her  was 
like  coming  upon  a  bed  of  violets  in  the  sunshine. 
He  turned  and  bowed  again  as  he  neared  the  door. 
She  stood  once  more  upon  the  lion's  skin,  smiling 
after  him;  she  had  lifted  both  her  hands  to  her 
head,  and  was  resetting  the  jewelled  dagger  in  her 
hair.  He  saw  the  outline  of  her  bust  and  hips 
against  the  firelit  space,  the  bend  of  her  waist,  the 
spring  of  her  lithe  thighs,  and  he  realized  suddenly 
that  in  her  seeming  etherealness  she  was,  after  all, 


Young  April  237 

the  most  exquisite  of  women.  His  brain  seemed 
now  to  be  floating,  like  that  of  a  man  in  the  first 
and  glorious  stage  of  intoxication,  on  the  stave  of 
a  song ;  he  stepped  airily  across  the  threshold,  and, 
so  doing,  fell  blindly  against  Spencer  who  was 
coming  in  with  hurried  stride. 

They  exchanged  a  few  words,  abstracted  on  both 
sides.  The  young  Duke  felt  condescending: 
Spencer,  the  eccentric  commoner,  might  love  that 
high-born  lady  as  eccentrically  as  he  chose,  but  he 
could  never  meet  her  upon  the  ground  which  he, 
Rochester,  had  just  trod. 

But  as  the  door  of  the  ante-chamber  opened, 
while  yet  he  stood  waiting  for  his  cloak,  a  little 
joyous  cry,  as  soft  as  a  cooing  dove's,  was  wafted 
to  him. 

"  Ah,  I  have  just  been  talking  of  you " 

Here  the  door  closed  again,  and  as  the  youth 
stepped  out  on  the  terrace  there  was  no  music,  but 
discord,  within  him. 

"  Hang  it ! "  he  said,  and  wished  he  could  make 
the  Countess  know,  "I  will  spend  the  evening 
with  poor  Eva." 


XXV 

"  Qu'apprendrez-vous  qui  vaille  mon  sourire  ? 
Qu'apprendras-tu  qui  vaille  nos  baisers  ?  " 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

"  I  WAS  talking  of  you,"  said  the  Grafin,  "  to 
that  boy." 

If  the  Duke  could,  unperceived,  have  seen  her 
then,  he  would  have  been  amazed  to  find  a  very 
different  woman.  As  Julia  de  Lucena  stood  before 
Spencer  and  yielded  her  hand  to  his  gravely  courte- 
ous kiss  — a  greeting  which,  as  he  gave  it,  seemed 
only  the  natural  homage  of  the  gentleman  to  the 
lady  —  in  some  sort  of  magic  way  the  flower  of 
her  wonderful  girlhood  bloomed  in  her  again. 

"What  good  wind  has  blown  you  hither?"  she 
cried  in  Italian,  as  he  lifted  his  head  and  his  eyes 
met  hers. 

Her  lip  trembled  a  little  as  she  spoke ;  the  blood 
rose  faintly  to  her  cheek.  She  hardly  knew  her- 
self what  had  come  to  her.  But  the  Philosopher 
thought  her  sudden  timidity  adorable,  her  con- 
fusion the  perfection  of  grace. 

"  I  came  because  I  could  not  help  it,"  he  said  in 
238 


Young  April  239 

the  same  language,  which  was  as  familiar  to  his 
tongue  as  to  hers. 

She  let  herself  sink  back  among  her  cushions 
languidly,  and  her  eyelids  fell,  dimly  purple- 
shadowed,  the  most  delicate  curtains  that  were 
ever  dropped  before  the  window  of  woman's  soul. 
She  felt  that  his  gaze  was  still  upon  her  face.  No 
human  being  had  ever  yet  seen  that  kindling  in 
Spencer's  eyes. 

She  knew  within  herself  —  and  she  had  not 
made  in  vain  a  varied  and  searching  study  of  man- 
kind for  seven  years  —  that  it  may  be  but  once  in 
a  century  that  the  God  of  Love  finds  such  material 
for  his  holocaust.  She,  who  had  always  sought 
for  the  best  the  world  could  give,  was  seized  with 
an  inner  tremor  of  joy. 

"  Would  you  have  helped  coming  —  if  you 
could  ?  "  she  asked,  after  a  pause. 

The  man  still  kept  her  under  his  ardent  gaze. 
Then  all  at  once  he  got  up  from  the  low  seat  he 
had  taken  beside  her  sofa  and  walked  up  and  down 
the  room.  She  watched  as  some  witch  might 
watch  the  effect  of  a  spell,  confident  in  the  result, 
yet  curious  of  its  phases. 

"  Donna  Julia,"  said  he,  halting  in  front  of  her, 
"the  petty  conventions  of  polite  society  have 
always  ill  fitted  my  tongue.  Now  I  will  straight- 


240  Young  April 

way  tell  you  the  truth.  From  the  time  that  I 
could  think  at  all  every  aspiration  of  my  being  has 
been  towards  freedom,  bodily  and  mental ;  from 
the  instant  that  I  had  power  to  shape  my  life  for 
myself,  I  shaped  it  free.  In  spite  of  strong  sym- 
pathies, warm  feelings,  my  soul  has  dwelt  alone. 
Not  only  the  soul,  but  the  mind  —  ay,  every 
physical  instinct  of  the  body  of  this  death."  He 
struck  his  great  chest  as  he  spoke.  "  I  have  gone 
unmated  of  choice  ;  I  have  repudiated  the  ordinary 
ties  of  humanity.  I  have  never  said  to  a  woman, 
'  I  love  you ' ;  I  have  never  built  myself  a  home 
and  thought,  '  Here  will  I  dwell ' ;  I  have  given  no 
hostages  to  fortune.  The  bare  thought  of  bondage, 
even  that  bondage  of  the  senses  and  of  affections 
which  makes  life  sweet  to  most,  was  to  me  intol- 
erable." 

She  listened  silently.  His  face  was  troubled ;  he 
had  run  his  hand  through  his  hair,  and  it  stood 
almost  on  end.  "  Yes,"  she  thought  to  herself,  — 
"  yes,  you  are  beautiful ;  you  are  worth  conquer- 
ing." And  behind  that  thought  was  yet  another 
thought  struggling  into  birth.  "  You  are  almost 
worthy  of  me." 

"  Well  ?  "  she  said. 

The  word  fell  from  her  lips  into  the  silence  like 
a  pearl. 


Young  April  241 

"  Well,"  echoed  Spencer,  in  accents  of  almost 
reproachful  passion,  "  what  is  it  you  have  done  to 
me?  First,  I  was  happy  in  your  presence,  merely 
because  I  saw  you  beautiful  of  body,  found  you 
beautiful  of  mind,  and  felt  you  beautiful  of  heart." 

The  listener's  eyes  glistened  with  a  quick  flame, 
instantly  veiled. 

"  But  a  week  ago,  when  you  gave  me  back  those 
flowers  I  had  sent  you  —  sent  you  but  as  the  appro- 
priate offering  to  such  as  you  —  what  did  you  do 
to  me  ?  It  was  but  one  look,  I  think,  but  it  has 
robbed  me  of  my  dearest  possession.  This  can  be 
no  news  to  you :  you  must  have  seen  it.  I  am  no 
longer  myself.  I  have  not  slept  because  you 
haunted  me ;  or  if  I  slept,  I  dreamt  of  you  .  .  . 
such  dreams!  Waking,  you  are  by  my  pillow; 
the  very  river  passing  my  windows  wears  at  dawn 
the  livery  of  your  eyes.  I  find  you  in  the  mists  ; 
you  rise  in  glory  with  the  sun.  You  sit  in  my 
little  room  as  I  try  to  read ;  you  look  at  me  from 
the  wine -cup;  you  walk  with  me  in  the  street; 
I  hear  your  voice  in  the  music  of  another  woman's 
song.  I  have  reasoned  with  myself.  .  .  . 
Reason ! "  He  flung  the  word  from  him  with  the 
scorn  of  the  warrior  for  a  faithless  weapon.  "I 
have  fought  with  myself  —  only  to  know  myself 
beaten.  To-day,  like  a  coward,  I  wanted  to  run 


242  Young  April 

away.  I  had  a  travelling  carriage  at  my  door  to 
take  me  —  I  do  not  know  where  —  somewhere,  far 
away  from  you.  Yet  when  I  stood  with  my  foot 
on  the  step  I  saw  that  in  the  vacant  place  beside 
me  you  were  sitting,  and  I  knew  that,  were  it  as 
far  as  the  east  is  from  the  west,  wherever  I  went 
I  should  have  to  take  you  too."  There  fell 
another  pause.  "  And  so,"  said  the  Philosopher, 
with  a  sudden  change  of  tone,  "  I  come  because  I 
cannot  help  it." 

"  And  now  that  you  are  here,"  said  she  simply, 
but  her  voice  thrilled  like  a  viol,  "  say,  is  it  not 
sweet?" 

He  stared  at  her  for  a  second  like  one  who, 
groping,  sees  a  sudden  light.  The  next  instant 
he  was  down  on  his  knees  beside  her,  and  again 
his  lips  were  pressed  upon  her  hand.  But  this 
was  now  no  mere  ceremonious  act  of  homage,  it 
was  the  kiss  of  unresisting  love.  Again,  as  he 
looked  up  their  eyes  met,  and  then  she,  who  had 
sipped  at  the  cup  of  life  with  such  Epicurean 
science,  felt  upon  her  lips  this  man's  virgin 
kiss. 

And  great  was  the  glory  of  it !  A  sob  rose  in 
her  throat,  and  a  tear  that  she  drove  back  from 
her  eyes  fell  upon  her  heart  with  a  regret  the 
bitterness  of  which  she  had  never  tasted  before. 


"  THE  NEXT  INSTANT  HE  WAS  DOWN  ON  HIS  KNEES  BESIDE  HER,  AND 
AGAIN  HIS  LIPS  WERE  PRESSED  UPON  HER  HAND" 


Young  April  243 

The  next  instant  the  fleeting  impression  was  gone, 
the  bliss  that  invaded  her  being  was  at  last  with- 
out alloy. 

Julia  de  Lucena  was  not  the  woman  to  prolong 
a  situation  beyond  its  triumphant  point  of  perfec- 
tion. Her  cultivated  fastidiousness  could  not 
brook  even  the  first  shadow  of  the  unavoidable 
descent  from  ecstasy.  She  forestalled  the  slacken- 
ing arms ;  she  denied  the  second  kiss.  In  another 
moment  she  was  solitary  and  unapproachable  amid 
her  cushions,  and  he  who  had  craved  that  second 
kiss  sat  dreaming  of  it  at  his  former  distance,  little 
of  the  philosopher,  all  the  man,  awakened  in  his 
full  manhood  to  love  —  that  eternal  negation  of 
philosophy!  She  felt  herself  mistress  of  the 
situation. 

"  I,  too,"  she  said,  as  if  continuing  the  conversa- 
tion, "have  always  hugged  my  liberty.  I  was 
bound  once."  Her  face  became  set  for  a  transient 
space  into  a  mask  of  singular  and  vindictive  dis- 
gust. "  It  was  my  initiation  into  life  —  and  love. 
Love ! "  she  repeated,  in  tones  of  irony,  cutting  as 
a  steel  blade ;  and  then  she  proceeded  dreamily : 
"  Love  that  is  worthy  of  the  name,  real  love,  is  as 
free  as  your  visions  of  freedom  themselves.  Why 
should  you  and  I,  that  know  this,  be  afraid  of  it?  " 

The  momentary  harsh  impression  of  her  first 


244  Young  April 

words  was  resolved  like  discord  into  renewed  har- 
mony by  the  exquisite  caress  of  the  voice.  She 
had  that  rare  gift  of  bringing  her  whole  person- 
ality into  the  tune  of  what  she  meant  to  express. 
Lip,  eye,  the  bend  of  the  head,  the  relaxation  that 
seemed  to  pervade  her  whole  bearing,  spoke  more 
subtly,  more  irresistibly,  than  the  words.  Spencer 
leaned  forward,  and  took  her  hand  once  more. 

"  Do  you  know  so  much  of  life,"  he  said,  "  and 
have  you  learnt  such  hard  lessons,  and  yet  can  you 
say  that  love  is  free?"  There  was  regret  in  his 
voice,  but  his  deep  gaze  glowed  in  unconscious 
contradiction.  "That  love  is  beautiful  I  always 
knew ;  you  have  made  me  feel  it.  But " 

He  bowed  his  head  as  if  taking  leave  of  his 
liberty,  bowed  it  till  his  lips  touched  her  hand,  and 
then  she  felt  his  kisses  burn. 

Her  steady  hold  upon  herself  began  to  escape 
her.  Were  she  to  lose  him  now,  she  thought,  it 
would  be  blankness  unutterable  —  worse,  failure ! 
And  yet  what  a  rival  she  had  to  combat! 

"  But  neither  you  nor  I  need  be  bound,"  she 
whispered  at  last,  after  a  lengthy  pause,  stooping 
to  his  ear.  "  Can  we  not  love  and  be  free  ?  Need 
there  be  promise  between  us?  Why  should  our 
love  be  of  the  earth's  pattern  ?  Our  love  shall  be 
for  ourselves,  and  the  world  shall  pass  the  sanctu- 


Young  April  245 

ary  of  our  happiness  and  never  guess  the  secret. 
Oh,  I  know  that,  thinker  as  you  are,  you  are  above 
the  world's  conventions !  Can  you  not  see  that  I, 
too,  despise  them  ?  " 

He  raised  his  head  and  looked  at  her.  His  face 
was  pale,  but  his  eyes  shone  with  steady  light. 
He  looked  like  one  who  has  measured  the  sacrifice 
and  found  it  worthy  of  him. 

"  You  speak,"  said  he,  "  like  the  woman  you  are. 
In  your  ethereal  aspirations  you  walk  the  land  of 
visions;  but  I  cannot  meet  you  there.  No,  no, 
Julia,  no,  on  that  plane  there  is  no  treading  for  my 
feet ;  you  must  come  down,  my  goddess,  for  this 
love  of  mine  is  but  human.  You  think,  poor  child, 
that  it  is  the  promise  that  binds,  and  the  earthly 
tie !  Do  you  not  understand  that  when  I  kissed 
you  I  gave  myself  to  you  ?  When  you  kissed  me 
you  belonged  to  me !  What  oath,  what  vow  can 
be  so  binding  as  the  first  rite  of  the  love  that  gives 
man  and  woman  to  each  other?  Let  the  vows 
before  God,  the  compact  before  men,  follow  after 
the  world's  way.  Convention,  what  of  it?  It  is 
but  the  freedom  to  wear  our  chains,  since  wear 
them  we  must.  I  could  not  be  more  consecrated 
to  you  than  I  am  now." 

There  was  a  moment's  breathless  silence.  She 
put  her  hands  to  her  face  to  hide  the  rush  of  furi- 


246  Young  April 

cms  blood  that  dyed  her  forehead,  and  the  convul- 
sion of  anger  that  distorted  her  mouth.  The 
simple  fool !  What  burgher  platitudes  were  these  ! 
He  talked  of  her  as  standing  on  the  heights,  and 
invited  her  down  to  his  level.  His  level  —  the 
mockery  of  it ! 

Then  she  felt  his  hands  upon  hers,  gently  draw- 
ing them  away,  and  saw  him  look  at  her  with 
troubled  face  and  reverential,  almost  worshipping 
glance,  and  she  —  she,  Julia  de  Lucena  —  blushed 
well-nigh  to  faintness. 

"  The  love  you  have  known,"  he  went  on,  "  has 
been  that  which  should  not  bear  the  name;  but 
do  not  fear  my  love.  Are  you  not  sacred  to  me, 
since  I  love  you?" 

At  these  words  she  stared  at  him,  and  there 
came  over  her  the  whirl  of  yet  another  change  — 
a  wild,  mad  wish  that  she  could  stand  indeed  be- 
fore him,  virgin  of  mind,  such  as  he  deemed  her. 
A  hidden  spring  gushed  up  within  her  soul  a  flood 
of  purifying  waters,  bitter  to  suffocation,  yet  pass- 
ing sweet. 

Still,  with  haggard  face  she  stared  back  at  him 
until  the  tenderness  in  his  eyes  was  more  than 
she  could  endure  and  her  own  overflowed.  She 
let  herself  sink  into  his  arms,  the  whole  struct- 
ure of  her  life,  such  as  she  had  made  it,  seeming 


Young  April  247 

to  fall  to  pieces  around  her.  And  as  she  now, 
by  impulse,  yielded  to  him  the  kiss  that  her  cal- 
culations had  withheld,  there  was  but  one  ar- 
ticulate thought  left  in  her  soul:  cost  what  it 
might,  she  would  not  lose  that  man. 

#  #  *  #  * 

Rachele,  the  Countess's  accomplished  tire- 
woman, had  a  tolerably  varied  experience  of  her 
mistress's  moods.  But  when,  a  couple  of  hours 
after  the  last  visitor  had  departed,  she  once  more 
entered  her  presence,  bearing  a  message  from  the 
Queen,  she  found  her  lady  in  a  condition  that 
no  precedent  had  taught  her  how  to  cope  with. 
Half  prostrate  upon  the  lion's  skin,  half  propped 
up  against  the  couch,  lay  Donna  Julia,  her  arms 
outstretched  with  a  gesture  of  lethargic  weak- 
ness, her  face  pallid  and  disfigured  with  passion- 
ate weeping. 

No  man  is  hero  to  his  valet.  What  woman 
can  keep  on  her  mask  before  her  private  maid? 
The  Countess  lifted  her  dimmed  eyes. 

"Rachele,"  she  said,  in  the  liquid  Italian  that 
was  more  familiar  to  her  throat  than  the  mother 
tongue  itself,  "if  priests  or  fools  tell  you  that 
you  have  free-will,  do  not  believe  them.  We  are 
blind  puppets  led  by  —  by  what?  Fate,  Provi- 
dence, or  the  Devil?" 


248  Young  April 

Rachele's  wits  were  quick,  but  here  she  groped. 
With  a  cheerful  profanity  she  answered,  because 
she  knew  not  what  else  to  answer :  Oh,  she  had 
never  allowed  Providence  or  priests  to  trouble 
her;  and  as  for  the  Devil,  she  had  never  found 
him  hard  to  get  on  with  now,  whatever  he  might 
be  by-and-by. 

The  girl's  cynical  philosophy  spurred  to  further 
reaction  her  mistress's  humour  — a  humour  already 
disposed  to  turn,  with  the  disgusted  shame  of  the 
habitually  worldly,  from  any  genuinely  generous 
emotion. 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  pushed  her  tossed 
hair  from  her  face. 

"  You  have  had  many  lovers  ? "  she  said  ab- 
ruptly. 

"  Yes,  madame,"  said  the  maid  simply. 

The  while  the  word  was  as  light  in  darkness. 
She  swiftly  connected  the  stately  figure  of  the 
English  professor  with  this  extraordinary  dis- 
tress, and  though  her  impassive,  sallow  counte- 
nance betrayed  no  sign,  she  inwardly  grimaced 
her  disapproval  to  herself.  If  it  had  been,  now, 
the  pretty  boy  —  at  least  he  was  a  Duke  —  but 
that  fellow  with  the  old  cloak.  .  .  . 

"  Well,  and  what  do  you  think  of  love  ?  "  went 
on  the  lady.  "Did  you  ever  find  it  worth  the 
giving  up  of  anything  ?  " 


Young  April  249 

"Oh,  Dio,  madame,"  said  Rachele,  in  her  can- 
did way;  "I  would  not  give  up  my  dinner  for 
a  pinch  of  salt.  Love  is  good,  and  so  is  salt. 
But,  my  faith!  salt  is  cheap,  and  so  is  love.  I 
fir.1  salt  go  well  with  my  dinner,  and,  thank 
Heaven!  as  I  say,  it  is  cheap  enough,  so  that 
all  can  put  it  in  the  pot." 

"I  see  you  are  very  wise,"  said  the  Countess. 
She  took  three  steps  towards  the  door  of  her 
room.  "What  was  it  you  said?  The  Queen  has 
sent  for  me  ?  That  is  strange.  She  has  not  sent 
for  me  for  many  days.  Well,  I  must  be  a  pretty 
spectacle  !  Get  me  my  black  dress." 

But  as  she  sat  before  the  glass  and  deftly 
spread  a  mist  of  rouge  on  her  pale  cheek,  she 
suddenly  paused  in  her  task,  and  looked  at  her 
maid  in  the  glass.  Their  eyes  met. 

"It  is  all  very  well,  Rachele,"  she  said,  "but 
what  were  one's  meals  if  one  had  to  give  up  the 
salt  ?  How  mawkish  the  most  delicate  dish  ! " 

She  sighed,  and  took  up  the  hare's  foot  again. 


XXVI 

"  Vraiment  la  reine  eut  pres  d'elle  ete  laide." 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

CONSCIOUS  that  all  her  art  had  not  been  able 
to  obliterate  the  traces  of  her  emotion,  the  Count- 
ess held  her  head  higher  and  moved  with  a 
more  languid  grace  than  usual  —  that  grace  which 
would  be  haughty  if  it  took  the  trouble  —  as  she 
crossed  the  ante-chamber  of  the  Queen's  apart- 
ments. 

A  couple  of  pages  surveyed  her  curiously.  One 
of  the  Queen's  gentlemen,  meeting  her,  recognized 
her  with  that  light  of  admiration  that  she  scarcely 
ever  failed  to  evoke  in  his  sex.  He  would  have 
spoken,  but  fell  back  with  an  abashed  bow  be- 
neath the  abstraction  of  her  glance.  The  Queen 
was  not  in  her  private  sitting-room,  but  the  old 
Baroness  de  Melk,  who  was  more  or  less  the 
chief  of  the  Queen's  household  and  her  constant 
companion,  came  to  her  in  a  few  moments,  and 
told  her  briefly  that  Her  Majesty  was  awaiting 
her  in  her  bedroom. 

250 


Young  April  251 

These  two  ladies  had  small  love  for  each  other, 
being  rivals  in  the  Royal  favour.  Their  eyes 
crossed  like  blades,  and  as  the  Countess  trailed 
her  black  draperies  wearily  towards  the  door,  the 
old  Austrian  dame  gazed  after  her  with  vindictive 
triumph. 

The  Queen's  bedchamber  looked  towards  the 
west,  and  this  evening  it  was  full  of  ruby  light. 

The  Queen  sat  in  her  armchair  with  her  back  to 
the  window.  The  level  rosy  ray  caught  the  oval 
of  her  cheek  but  could  not  paint  it  bright.  She 
was  wrapped  in  a  loose  dressing-gown  of  white 
brocade  that  threw  into  strong  relief  her  sallow- 
ness  and  the  red  stains  around  her  eyelids.  Her 
heavy  black  hair,  of  that  sort  that  lends  itself 
ungraciously  to  curls  and  ringlets,  hung  straight 
and  dishevelled  from  the  temples.  She,  too,  it 
seemed,  had  passed  through  one  of  those  storms 
which  ravage  a  woman's  fairness.  She  looked  up 
at  the  slim  black  figure  as  it  straightened  itself 
after  its  sweeping  courtesy,  marked  with  unerring 
quickness  and  with  a  twist  of  the  heart  that  the 
lady-in-waiting  had  been  weeping  also,  but  that 
the  tears  had  scarcely  dimmed  —  nay,  that  they 
but  added  to  —  her  beauty.  Her  hostile  eyes 
grew  pitiless.  And  these  two  had  been  as 
sisters ! 


252  Young  April 

"  Your  Majesty  has  sent  for  me,"  said  the  Gra- 
fin,  breaking  the  heavy  silence. 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  Queen. 

Her  swollen  eye  kept  up  its  scrutiny  —  a  scru- 
tiny growing  in  its  intensity  from  angry  hardness 
to  passionate  searching. 

To  return  such  a  glance  without  either  imperti- 
nence, brazenness,  or  wavering,  would  have  been 
a  feat  for  any  woman  to  perform,  however  clear 
her  conscience.  But  there  was  not  a  flaw  in  the 
Grafin's  bearing.  The  proudest  self-respect,  the 
nicest  deference  —  she  conveyed  the  expression 
of  these  opposing  sentiments,  after  the  fashion 
peculiar  to  herself,  not  only  in  her  look  and  bear- 
ing, but  in  every  fold  of  the  black  draperies  that 
fell  around  her  in  her  reposeful  attitude  of  wait- 
ing. Uncertainty  began  to  break  up  the  Queen's 
severity  of  demeanour;  it  was  her  eye  that  fell. 
Looking  on  the  ground,  she  spoke  at  last  in 
forced,  broken  sentences. 

"I  never  thought  it  would  come  to  this  be- 
tween us.  I  have  lately  noticed " 

Her  fingers,  very  thin  and  frail,  clasped  the 
arms  of  her  chair  convulsively.  A  wave  of  burn- 
ing blood,  rising,  it  would  seem,  from  some 
hidden  depth  of  anger  and  bitterness,  suddenly 
dyed  her  forehead  crimson.  She  looked  up  again. 


Young  April  253 

The  eyes  of  the  woman  were  eloquent  with  a  re- 
proach that  the  lips  of  the  Queen  could  not  with 
dignity  speak.  With  an  abrupt  movement  she  rose 
to  her  feet  and  they  faced  each  other  on  a  level. 

"  In  short,"  said  the  Royal  lady,  this  time  with 
icy  determination,  "it  is  clear,  Countess,  that 
this  foreign  air  does  not  agree  with  your  health. 
Others  have  noticed  it.  I  myself  have  been 
forced  to  notice  it.  You  are  greatly  changed. 
For  your  own  sake  "  —  she  repeated  the  words  em- 
phatically —  "  for  your  own  sake  —  I  do  not  speak 
of  my  peace  of  mind  —  I  have  come  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  you  must  return  to  your  home.  I  have 
told  His  Majesty  so,  and  "  —  she  paused  and  shot 
a  piercing  look  —  "His  Majesty  agrees." 

The  Countess  de  Lucena  swayed,  but  so  slightly 
that  the  movement  was  imperceptible  even  to  the 
eager  watcher.  She  dropped  her  lids  over  her  eyes 
and  closed  her  teeth  for  an  instant  upon  her  under 
lip  ;  but  beneath  her  rouge  the  ebbing  of  her  blood 
was  masked. 

The  genius  of  the  born  general  lies  not  so  much  in 
personal  courage  as  in  facing  an  emergency,  grasp- 
ing its  full  import,  and  instantly  taking  the  lead 
against  it,  even  if  it  involved  heavy  sacrifice. 
Secure  as  she  had  felt  in  her  own  power,  here  was 
an  attack  the  possibility  of  which  the  Grafin  had 


254  Young  April 

never  thought  of,  never  anticipated.  Neverthe- 
less, her  hesitation  was  but  the  pause  necessaiy 
for  the  change  of  front  and  the  re-ordering  of  her 
forces. 

"  Madame,"  said  she  —  and  the  first  accent  of  her 
voice  conveyed  with  perfect  respect  a  delicate  re- 
buke —  "  every  word  that  Your  Majesty  has  spoken 
is  another  drop  to  my  already  overflowing  cup  of 

sorrow  and "  She  halted  with  calculated 

effect,  then  added :  "  Yes,  I  will  say  it,  for  I  can- 
not believe  you  will  misunderstand  me,  madame  — 
sorrow  and  remorse." 

The  Queen  fell  back  in  her  seat,  crimson. 

"  Do  you  dare  ?  " 

The  words  seemed  trembling  on  her  lips.  She 
put  up  her  hands  quickly  to  stifle  them. 

"  When  Your  Majesty  sent  for  me  I  was  on  the 
point  of  requesting  a  private  interview,  and  only 
delayed  till  the  traces  of  these  tears  should  have 
passed  away."  The  Grafin  pointed  to  her  eyes 
with  a  superb  gesture.  "Your  Majesty  has  fore- 
stalled me  —  forestalled  my  request  and  my  con- 
fession." 

Once  more  she  paused  with  calculated  emotion. 

"  Your  confession  ?  "  echoed  the  Queen.  "  You 
have  said  too  much  or  too  little,  Julia.  I  com- 
mand you  to  speak." 


Young  April  255 

The  Countess  sketched  a  courtesy,  and,  with 
bent  head  and  low,  distinct  voice,  obeyed. 

"In  order  that  Your  Majesty  may  understand 
me,"  she  began,  "it  is  necessary  that  I  should 
touch  upon  what  was  once  my  pride,  my  joy — • 
upon  what  is  now  at  the  same  time  a  consoling 
and  a  torturing  memory  —  the  friendship  which 
for  six  years  you  have  deigned  to  show  me  —  a 
friendship  cemented  by  that  youthful  vow  of  our 
young,  generous  days,  when  I  swore  never  to  leave 
your  side,  and  you  swore  to  love  me  like  a  sister." 

The  Queen  winced,  and  her  lip  trembled. 

"  When  I  left  my  adopted  land,  my  friends,  my 
home,  to  follow  Your  Majesty  in  your  new  life,  it 
was  not,  permit  me  to  say  it,  for  the  honour  of 
serving  the  Queen,  but  for  the  happiness  of  re- 
maining near  the  friend.  This  happiness  made 
sacrifice  a  pleasure.  Upheld  by  the  conviction 
that  Your  Majesty  shared  these  feelings,  I  have 
found  more  than  compensation  for  all  personal 
troubles.  I  have  been  able  to  despise  the  malice 
of  my  enemies ;  and,  madame,  I  have  some  bitter 
ones  here,  who  would  gladly  see  me  lose  that 
favour  which  has  created  so  many  jealousies. 
Thus  it  was  till  but  a  little  time  ago.  Then  — 
Your  Majesty  has  seen  it  —  I  cannot  deny  it,  there 
did  come  a  change.  I,  who  thought  myself  so 


256  Young  April 

safe  in  the  double  armour  of  my  devotion  to  Your 
Majesty  and  your  attachment  to  myself  —  I  found 
myself  weak,  weak.  Oh,  madame,  believe  me,  I 
did  not  succumb  without  a  struggle.  My  loyalty  to 
}rourself,  my  pride,  my  peace  of  mind,  my  position 
at  your  side  —  all,  all  was  at  stake !  I  felt  to  the 
heart's  core  your  change  of  manner  to  me.  I  dared 
seek  no  explanation,  for  I  knew  in  my  heart  that  I 
had  failed;  I  allowed  love,  love,  to  conquer  me." 

"  Good  God,  woman !  "  cried  the  Queen,  "  these 
words  to  my  face ! " 

The  Countess  started  and  gazed  at  her  mistress's 
infuriated  countenance  with  the  reproachful  eye 
of  a  startled  gazelle. 

"I  had  hoped,"  she  murmured,  in  a  voice  that 
seemed  choked  with  tears,  "  that  Your  Majesty, 
herself  so  happily  married,  would  have  a  little 
compassion,  a  little  understanding  for  another 
woman's  heart,  for  one  who  has  already  suffered 
so  cruelly  where  she  ought  to  have  been  most 
blessed." 

"Julia,  what  do  you  mean?"  interrupted  the 
Queen  passionately.  The  Countess  had  dallied 
with  her  Royal  Mistress's  anguish  with  the  most 
delicate  deliberation,  had  measured  to  a  hair's- 
breadth  the  extent  to  which  she  dared  venture; 
now  she  saw  that  she  had  reached  the  limit. 


Young  April  257 

"  Since  Your  Majesty  has,  as  I  said,  forestalled 
my  request  and  released  me  from  my  duties  and 
my  promise,  I  can  find  courage  to  tell  her  that  I 
have  at  last  consented  to  "  —  she  paused  and  looked 
up  with  innocent  eyes  —  "  to  marry  Mr.  Spencer." 

"  To  marry  Mr.  Spencer ! "  repeated  the  Queen 
vaguely. 

"  I  fear,  madame,"  went  on  the  Countess,  looking 
down  again,  "  that  both  you  and  His  Majesty  have 
reason  to  be  more  than  astonished  at  my  ventur- 
ing to  contemplate  such  a  step  without  previously 
obtaining  your  sanction.  A  thousand  times  I 
would  have  spoken,  but  your  unwonted  coldness 
froze  the  words  on  my  lips.  As  for  Mr.  Spencer, 
Your  Majesty  knows  his  peculiar  independence." 
Here  a  faint  smile  spread  over  her  face.  "  His 
wife  could  not " 

"  Stop  !  stop !  "  cried  the  Queen,  seized  her  by 
the  waist,  dragged  her  to  the  window,  and  peered 
eagerly  into  her  face.  "  Let  me  understand  you. 
You,  Julia,  you  are  asking  me  to  let  you  marry  — 
marry  —  Mr.  Spencer  ?  " 

Donna  Julia  kept  her  lids  downcast,  with  an  air 
of  injured  candour. 

"Mr.  Spencer,"  she  murmured,  "is  jealous  of 
the  privacy  of  home.  I  trust  the  King  will  pardon 
his  defection,  but  now  "  —  she  looked  up  suddenly, 


258  Young  April 

and  allowed  for  the  first  time  her  resentment  to 
ring  out  openly  —  "  now  that  Your  Majesty  has 
dismissed  me,  half  my  difficulty  vanishes." 

"  Julia !  Julia ! "  exclaimed  the  Royal  lady,  and 
incontinently  burst  into  tears.  "  I  have  been  mad, 
forgive  me ! "  She  caught  the  black  figure  to  her 
arms.  "  Oh,  how  happy  you  have  made  me  ! "  she 
cried. 

The  Countess  would  have  slipped  from  this  em- 
brace and  formally  kissed  hands,  but  the  Queen 
held  her  close,  and,  hiding  her  own  flushed  face 
against  the  shoulder  of  her  lady-in-waiting,  pro- 
ceeded in  muffled  tones : 

"  You  say  true :  you  have  enemies,  you  were 
calumniated.  Oh,  never  ask  me  to  tell  you  what 
they  made  me  believe !  I  was  mad,  and  I  put 
faith  in  slander  and  malice  rather  than  in  the 
truth  of  one  who  had  proved  her  love  times  with- 
out number.  Ah,  you  are  offended!  I  have 
deserved  it ! " 

She  relaxed  her  grasp  and  drew  back,  still  weep- 
ing; but  through  her  tears  her  face  shone  with 
irrepressible  joy. 

"  Your  Majesty  overwhelms  me,"  said  the  Gra- 
fin  very  coldly.  "  It  will  more  than  make  amends 
if,  when  I  leave  you,  I  may  carry  with  me  still 
the  assurance  of  your  esteem  and  friendship." 


Young  April  259 

"  And  do  you  think,"  cried  the  Queen,  "  that  I 
can  ever  allow  you  to  leave  me  now?  No,  less 
than  ever  now.  We  shall  invent  a  post  for  you 
that  may  be  compatible  with  your  married  life. 
Mr.  Spencer  must  be  made  to  understand  that  my 
claims  must  be  considered  as  well  as  his.  You 
would  not  rob  the  King  of  his  valuable  services." 

"  Your  Majesty " 

"  Oh,  let  it  be  Theresa  once  again  between  us, 
as  in  the  old  sweet  days ! "  interrupted  the  Queen. 

"  Your  Majesty  knows,"  repeated  Donna  Julia 
relentlessly,  "that  I  would  give  her  my  life,  but 
she  asks  here  for  a  sacrifice  that  is  beyond  my 
strength ;  to  remain  where  once  I  have  been  sus- 
pected is  impossible." 

The  Queen's  tears  gushed  out  once  more. 

"  You  must  forgive  me ! "  she  cried,  sobbing 
like  a  child;  "you  must  remain  —  I  beg  you  to 
remain !  Julia,  I  will  get  the  King  to  ask  you 
himself,"  she  went  on,  with  the  usual  revulsion  of 
generous  natures  from  one  extreme  to  the  other. 
"He  at  least  never  offended  you!  Oh,  if  I  had 
only  listened  to  him ! " 

The  Countess  had  pushed  her  counter-attack  to 
the  very  limits  of  prudence ;  the  lost  position  was 
recovered;  it  was  time  to  accept  the  terms  of 
peace  so  eagerly  offered. 


260  Young  April 

"Much  as  I  revere  His  Majesty,"  said  she, 
"  grateful  as  I  must  ever  be  to  the  condescension 
he  has  invariably  shown  me,  could  I  yield  to  him 
what  I  refuse  my  Queen?"  She  paused,  then 
added  with  a  condescending  suavity,  "  Theresa !  " 

And  they  fell  into  each  other's  arms. 

"  Yes,  yes,  you  may  retire.  You  want  rest,  my 
poor  Julia,  and  I  hold,  you  know,  to  your  presence 
at  the  concert  to-night,  when  I  will  myself  inform 
His  Majesty  of  your  plans  and  obtain  his  consent 
to  your  marriage." 

The  Queen  conducted  her  lady-in-waiting  to  the 
door,  and  Baroness  von  Melk,  sitting  in  the  ante- 
chamber, was  a  witness  of  their  parting  embrace. 
The  Baroness  caught  at  the  same  instant  a  look 
from  Her  Majesty  over  the  Countess's  shoulder 
that  made  her  own  blood  run  cold. 


XXVII 

"  Le  roi  disait  en  la  voyant  si  belle  — 
Pour  un  baiser,  pour  un  sourire  d'elle. 
Pour  un  cheveu  .  .  ." 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

"  OH,  it  is  very  fine  talking,  Neuberg,"  said  Eva 
irritably.  "  I  am  as  frightened  as  a  hare." 

Rochester,  who  sat  looking  at  her  abstractedly, 
saw  that  the  pulse  in  her  round  white  throat  was 
beating  visibly,  like  that  of  some  frightened  animal. 

"  And  where  is  Spencer  ?  "  she  asked  suddenly. 

"  My  dear,  I  know  no  more  of  him  than  you  do. 
He  is  not  himself,  that  is  clear." 

"  Oh,  you  never  do  know  anything,"  she  retorted 
sharply. 

"  But  he  is  sure  to  come  to  your  supper  after  the 
concert,"  proceeded  the  officer,  in  the  soothing  tone 
of  a  nurse  to  a  pettish  child. 

Eva  was  sitting  full  dressed  before  the  looking-- 
glass in  her  bedroom,  putting  the  last  touches  to 
her  hair.  She  was  too  proud  of  the  flower-like 
fineness  and  bloom  of  her  skin  to  try  to  enhance  it 
261 


262  Young  April 

with  other  red  and  white.  But  she  pinched  and 
pulled  at  the  little  bunch  of  ringlets  on  her  temples 
with  dissatisfied  fingers  and  held  a  white  camellia 
at  different  angles  behind  her  ear,  or  beside  the 
towering  comb  that  fastened  her  hair  upon  the 
crown  of  her  head  —  where  the  three  loops  shone 
in  the  candle-light  with  the  colour  of  a  ripe  horse- 
chestnut —  and  would  let  it  rest  nowhere. 

Rochester  watched  the  vivid  image  in  the  glass, 
and  all  the  while  his  thoughts  were  occupied  with 
the  memories  of  his  afternoon  visit.  But  Neu- 
berg  was  eagerly  interested  in  the  position  of  that 
camellia,  and  called  out :  "  Perfect,  Eva !  Do  not 
touch  it  again.  Ah,  now  you  have  it !  "  at  every 
new  essay. 

All  at  once  she  plucked  it  out  with  final  spite 
and  threw  it  at  him. 

"What  a  plague  you  are!"  she  cried.  "And 
why  the  hangman  did  you  ever  come  to  this 
beastly  place?  That  was  a-  happy  thought  of 
yours.  And  you  brought  him,  too!  My  God! 
and  I  had  such  a  light  heart  in  poor  old  Vienna, 
and  so  had  he ! " 

She  stood  up  as  she  spoke. 

"There  is  the  carriage,"  said  she.  "Give  me 
my  cloak.  What  sort  is  this  famous  Julia  ?  " 

She  turned  abruptly  on  the  Duke. 


Young  April  263 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  and  blushed  at  being  probed  to 
his  hidden  thoughts.  "  The  Countess  de  Lucena, 
do  you  mean  ?  " 

**  Of  course  1 "  she  snapped,  and  stamped  her 
foot.  "  I  want  to  know  her  when  I  see  her,  this 
beautiful  Julia." 

"Oh,"  stammered  the  boy  again,  "she  is  very 
tall,  you  know,  and  slight,  and  all  that." 

"Ah!"  said  Eva,  and  drew  the  folds  of  her 
velvet  cloak  vengefully  over  the  firm  sweep  of 
her  bust.  "  One  of  your  English  broomsticks !  I 
can  see  her  from  here ! " 

"  Oh,  but  she  is  not  thin ! "  cried  the  Duke,  wax- 
ing hot  at  the  imputation  cast  on  his  country  and 
on  his  taste.  "  She  is  just  perfect,  like  —  like  a 
Diana ! " 

"  What  do  you  know  about  it,  I  should  like  to 
know?  "  said  the  singer,  whisking  off  with  a  sniff; 
while  Neuberg,  brushing  forward  to  offer  his  arm, 
gave  the  Duke  in  passing  a  vicious  dig  with  his 
elbow. 

"  She  is  older  than  you,  Eva,"  he  said  artfully, 
as  they  went  down  the  stairs  —  "a  great  deal 
older.  And,  between  ourselves,  I  do  not  think 
she  would  like  anyone  to  assist  at  her  consultation 
with  the  looking-glass." 

"  Oh,  those  are  the  worst,"  said  the  poor  prima 


264  Young  April 

donna,  sighing.     -'  Don't  I  know  ?    Well,  let  them 
go  hang !     I  have  a  better  sort  of  art,  anyhow." 
***** 

The  music-gallery  was  all  red  damask  and  gild- 
ing, after  the  prevailing  pattern  of  the  Palace  re- 
ception-rooms. It  was  an  apartment  of  vast  size 
and  height,  lit  by  immense  cut-glass  chandeliers 
that  reflected  their  own  light  in  myriad  hanging 
drops.  This  evening,  the  concert  being  for  the 
Court  circle  only,  the  audience,  grouped  upon 
a  little  island  of  chairs  amid  the  sea  of  shining 
parquet,  seemed  only  to  emphasize  the  emptiness 
of  the  great  chamber. 

Any  less  splendid,  less  exuberant  personality 
than  Eva's  would  have  been  overpowered  by  the 
space  as  she  advanced  and  took  up  her  solitary 
position  on  a  central  platform,  her  only  reinforce- 
ment being  the  perspiring  Prziborzki,  whose  red 
head  bobbed  in  preliminary  agony  behind  the 
bank  of  palms  that  screened  the  pianoforte.  But 
with  free  gait  she  stepped  forward,  swept  her 
courtesy  to  the  King's  empty  chair  and  the  vol- 
uminous pink  satin  of  the  Queen's  skirts,  and  then 
stood  for  a  moment  proudly,  as  if  to  let  them  all 
look  and  take  account  of  her  magnificent  presence ; 
because  in  a  little  while  (she  knew  it)  the  magic 
of  her  voice  would  rob  them  of  the  power  to  criti- 
cise her  beauty. 


Young  April  26$ 

She  shot  one  look  at  Spencer,  who  stood  —  un- 
mistakable figure  in  the  background  —  leaning 
against  a  pilaster,  and,  following  the  direction  of 
his  eyes,  she  let  her  gaze  rest  with  piercing  scru- 
tiny on  the  cloud  of  lilac  and  white  behind  the 
Queen ;  out  of  which  cloud  emerged  a  delicate 
apparition  with  shoulders  of  pearly  whiteness, 
with  small,  round,  long  throat  and  small,  tired 
face,  framed  by  a  nimbus  of  hair  sparkling  and 
indefinitely  tinted  like  motes  in  a  sunbeam.  Her 
rival ! 

"So  there  she  is,"  said  Eva's  heart — "that 
colourless  thing ! "  And  the  poor  heart  gave  a 
leap  of  scorn  and  satisfaction.  But  the  next 
moment  it  sank  like  lead,  for  the  clever  brain  had 
sent  another  message  to  it.  "We  have  not  a 
chance,"  it  said. 

Yet  not  even  Neuberg  saw  a  ruffle  on  the 
singer's  brow.  She  was  a  born  actress  and  stood 
in  her  destined  place.  She  turned  her  head  and 
signalled  to  the  pianist,  who  struck  the  first 
chords,  subdued  and  caressing.  Then  up  rose 
Eva's  voice. 

Here,  at  least,  she  was  without  a  peer.  But, 
alas  I  what  of  the  power  of  the  poet  or  the  artist, 
when  the  emotion  he  evokes  flows  not  back  to  him- 
self, but  ever  to  the  shrine  of  some  hidden  idol  ? 


266  Young  April 

The  first  song  was  a  solemn  chant  of  Bach;  and 
Spencer's  soul,  uplifted  by  it,  floated  on  its  wave, 
and  flung  itself  at  the  feet  of  the  woman  he  loved. 

The  song  was  followed  by  a  moment's  silence, 
followed  in  its  turn  by  a  decorous  murmur,  like 
the  rustle  in  a  field  of  corn.  But  the  Queen  had 
let  fall  the  word  "  Exquisite  ! "  and  the  word  was 
echoed.  Those  nearest  to  her  saw  likewise  that 
there  were  tears  in  her  eyes.  The  Royal  lady 
was  easily  moved  to  tears  that  evening,  although 
an  unwonted  joyfulness  became  her  like  a  flower. 

"  I  wish  His  Majesty  were  here,"  whispered  she 
over  her  shoulder  to  the  rehabilitated  lady-in- 
waiting. 

"  Indeed  yes,"  said  the  latter ;  but  her  tone  was 
indifferent,  and  her  eye  vague. 

The  next  song  had  been  artfully  chosen  in 
marked  contrast  to  the  first.  It  was  an  airy 
Italian  canzonet,  as  joyous  as  the  note  of  the 
lark,  as  light  as  the  streamlet  rippling.  Eva  had 
essentially  a  dramatic  genius,  and  she  sang  the 
more  gaily,  perhaps,  that  her  heart  was  so  heavy. 

In  the  middle  of  the  second  verse  a  man,  with 
flushed  face  and  commanding  presence,  marched 
with  resounding  tread  the  whole  length  of  the 
concert-room  to  the  empty  chair  in  front,  into 
which  he  flung  himself. 


Young  April  267 

The  whole  audience  had  risen,  fluttering,  and 
the  modulated  thread  of  the  singer's  voice  was 
lost  in  the  sounds  of  scraping  chairs  and  rustling 
silks.  Eva  broke  off  abruptly,  silenced  her  accom- 
panist by  a  backward  glance,  lowered  her  music, 
crossed  her  hands  over  it,  and  watched  calmly  till 
she  caught  the  King's  eye  —  an  eye  somewhat 
bloodshot  and  sullen  to-night  —  then  made  him 
a  vast  courtesy. 

"  By  heavens,"  said  the  King,  and  for  the  first 
time  looked  at  his  wife,  "  that  is  the  handsomest 
woman  I  have  seen  for  a  long  time  ! " 

The  singer  began  again,  and  sang  her  song 
straight  at  him. 

At  the  interlude  the  King,  so  tenacious  usually 
of  the  smallest  rule  of  etiquette,  gave  three  sonor- 
ous claps,  and  called  out  "  Brava !  "  at  which  signal 
a  small  and  broken  beat  of  applause  rose  among 
the  audience. 

His  Majesty  then  wheeled  round  in  his  chair, 
and  looked  searchingly  from  the  Queen's  face, 
flushing  and  eager,  to  the  Countess's  cold,  enig- 
matic countenance. 

"If  you  will  allow  us,  Sire,"  said  the  little 
Queen,  timidly  fluttering  upon  the  verge  of  her 
happy  secret  like  a  bird  round  its  nest,  "we 
should  like  to  make  a  communication  to  you 


268  Young  April 

to-night,  which  we  venture  to  hope  will  not 
displease  you." 

She  laid  her  hand  as  she  spoke  upon  that  of 
the  lady-in-waiting ;  the  latter  bent  down  and 
kissed  it,  and  then  raised  her  head  and  shot 
past  her  Royal  mistress  a  swift,  deep  look  into 
the  King's  eyes.  There  was  a  pause. 

"  Indeed,"  said  the  King. 

It  was  but  a  single  word,  but  it  was  sufficient 
to  mark  a  complete  change  of  mood.  The  Queen 
saw  good-humour  radiate  once  again  from  the 
august  brow  that  made  fair  and  foul  weather 
for  all  around,  but  most  of  all  for  her,  and  her 
spirits  sprang  to  boldness. 

"  Then,  will  Your  Majesty  be  pleased  to  summon 
Mr.  Spencer  ?  "  said  she,  almost  coquettishly. 

The  King  glanced  again  at  the  Countess's  little 
drooping  head  and  downcast  eyes ;  then  he  called 
Neuberg  with  a  look  and  gave  him  the  order. 

Across  the  long  room  came  Spencer,  in  his 
grave,  easy  way. 

"See,"  said  the  Queen,  "here  is  an  empty  seat 
beside  Donna  Julia.  I  have  just  been  telling  the 
King  that  we  have  a  secret  to  tell  him.  Yes,  Mr. 
Spencer,  your  secret  is  mine  too." 

Spencer's  face  expressed  astonishment,  bewilder- 
ment. He  looked  hastily  at  the  Countess;  she 
was  impassive. 


Voting  April  269 

"Your  Majesty,"  proceeded  the  Queen,  in  a 
deep,  thrilling  voice,  "  these  two  have  been  afraid 
to  tell  us —  these  two,  your  friends  and  mine  — 
that  they  have  learned  to  know  and  love  each 
other.  I  think  we  must  not  be  too  hard  on  them. 
We  must  forgive,  Sire;  for  I  believe  they  are 
worthy  of  each  other.  But  I  have  put  a  condi- 
tion to  my  pardon.  I  believe  you  will  put  a 
similar  condition  to  yours.  Let  them  belong  to 
each  other  if  they  will,  but  they  must  not  cease 
to  belong  to  us  too." 

All  the  woman  in  her  revelled  in  the  scene. 
She  smiled  radiantly,  but  her  own  eloquence 
brought  the  ready  tears  to  her  eyes.  She  watched, 
palpitating,  for  her  King's  reply. 

The  King  first  turned  upon  Spencer  a  look  that 
might  have  slain  a  man ;  then,  reading  upon  the 
page  of  that  countenance  nothing  but  the  most 
guileless  surprise,  turned  again  to  the  closed  book 
of  the  woman  beside  him,  and  reflected  for  the 
space  of  a  second.  Then  the  thunder-cloud  rolled 
over  and  sunshine  reigned  once  more. 

"  By  the  Lord,  madame  ! "  said  he  to  the  Queen, 
with  mock  fierceness,  while  the  blandest  humour 
shone  from  his  eyes,  "  have  we  such  traitors  about 
us  ?  Mr.  Spencer,  Countess,  is  it  possible  ?  Well, 
well,  if  the  Queen  has  forgiven  you,  so  must  I, 


270  Young  April 

I  suppose.  But  remember  it  is  on  condition  — 
Donna  Julia,  your  hand,  and  yours,  my  friend  — 
none  but  myself  shall  give  you  one  to  the  other." 

Spencer,  who  had  grown  pale,  bowed  first  over 
the  Royal  hand  and  then  over  the  slender  fingers 
that  were  laid  in  his  grasp. 

Meanwhile  Eva  stood  motionless  and  looked  on, 
cold  as  a  statue. 

***** 

Under  cover  of  the  music  whispered  the  Queen 
to  the  King: 

"I  was  wrong,  I  was  wrong;  I  am  so  happy  to 
have  been  wrong.  Forgive  me  ! " 

Answered  the  King,  with  the  eye  of  a  Sultan  on 
the  Sultana: 

"  That  rose  colour  suits  you  well,  Theresa." 

And  she — to  flutter  and  to  blush,  warmed  to 
the  heart  with  the  subtle  joy  of  pardon  granted 
and  love  restored. 

***** 

Said  Spencer  to  Donna  Julia  after  a  long  and 
heavy  silence  : 

"  Did  you  find  no  sweetness  in  our  secret,  that 
you  must  murder  it  so  soon  ?  " 

"  You  said  to-day,"  she  answered,  "  that  human 
affection  meant  bondage.  I  believe  I  then  thought 
myself  a  free  woman — free!  .  .  .  I,  the  Queen's 


Young  April  271 

friend ! "  She  laughed  bitterly.  "  God  keep  us 
all,  and  those  we  love,  from  the  life  of  courts  and 
the  favour  of  sovereigns  I " 

The  weariness  of  her  eyes,  of  her  voice,  of  her 
attitude,  was   infinite  —  infinite   also   the   sudden 
tenderness  that  leaped  into  her  lover's  gaze. 
***** 

Eva  was  sent  for  after  the  last  song,  presented 
to,  and  complimented  by  the  Royal  couple. 

"  Look  at  His  Majesty's  face,"  whispered  one 
young  officer  to  another.  "  I  prophesy  —  I  proph- 
esy a  new  star  hath  risen ! " 

"  His  Majesty  is  learned  —  in  astronomy,"  an- 
swered the  other  dryly;  and  they  both  laughed 
silently. 

The   Duke,  who  was  standing  next  to  them, 
overheard,  and  threw  them  a  dark  glance,  where- 
upon they  became  preternaturally  grave. 
***** 

The  King  and  the  Countess  de  Lucena  were  for 
one  moment  apart  from  the  rest.  The  concert 
was  over ;  the  circle  was  dispersing. 

"Desperate  cases  demand  desperate  remedies," 
said  the  King ;  "  but  in  God's  name,  Donna  Julia, 
why  Spencer  ?  " 

"My  King,"  she  answered,  in  her  caressing 
voice,  "some  day,  when  you  have  the  leisure 


272  Young  April 

and  the  condescension,  I  will  explain  to  you  the 
meaning  of  a  cant  phrase  of  ours  in  England  — 
Hobson's  choice." 

***** 
It  was  an  evening  of  reconciliations.  His 
Majesty,  upon  retiring  to  his  room,  sent  for  his 
Master  of  the  Horse,  who,  since  the  episode  of  the 
Hungarian  mare,  had  been  left  out  in  the  cold. 
The  reception  was  a  cordial  one.  His  Majesty 
was  in  a  jovial  mood,  and  laughed  heartily  as  they 
conversed. 


XXVIII 

"  O !  how  this  Spring  of  love  resembleth 
Th'  uncertain  glory  of  an  April  day, 
Which  now  shows  all  the  beauty  of  the  sun, 
And  by  and  by  a  cloud  takes  all  away !  " 

SHAKESPEARE. 

IT  was  a  dejected  trio  that  met  after  this  Court 
function  in  Eva's  sitting-room. 

"Make  my  excuses  to  dear  Eva,"  had  said  Spencer 
hurriedly  to  his  friend  among  the  few  words  they 
had  been  able  to  exchange  a  little  earlier  that 
night ;  "  impossible  for  me  to  get  away,  the  Queen 
has  commanded  my  presence.  You  have  heard  the 
news  ?  "  he  added  with  an  unconsciously  melan- 
choly countenance. 

Neuberg  had  heard  the  news :  whispers  at  Court 
spread  quickly  from  ear  to  ear.  But  the  words 
of  congratulation  seemed  to  halt  on  his  tongue. 
Spencer,  not  at  all  surprised,  it  appeared,  by  his 
friend's  silence,  turned  away,  breathing  deeply 
and  pulling  at  his  collar  with  impatient  fingers,  as 
if  oppressed  by  a  sense  of  strangulation.  The 
T  273 


274  Young  April 

officer  stood  looking  after  him  and  his  soul  was 
dark  within  him.  He  was  full  of  misgivings  for 
the  two  people  he  loved  best  in  the  world.  How- 
ever delicious  he  had  thought  the  idea  of  Spencer 
in  love,  the  thought  of  Spencer  bound,  Spencer 
engaged,  Spencer  married  —  and  married  to  the 
Countess  de  Lucena  of  all  women  in  the  world  — 
was  monstrous !  Moreover,  it  was  no  pleasant 
task  to  be  the  bearer  of  this  message,  knowing 
all  that  it  meant,  to  the  prima  donna. 

The  most  susceptible  spot  in  young  Rochester's 
mental  anatomy  was  as  yet  his  vanity.  The  news 
of  the  eccentric,  erratic,  obscure  commoner's  en- 
gagement to  the  Countess  came  as  a  severe  blow 
upon  this  most  vulnerable  place.  Like  a  too  self- 
confident  pugilist  advancing  with  cork-like  springs 
to  conquest,  he  found  himself  all  at  once  with  the 
breath  knocked  out  of  his  body,  in  the  most  un- 
dignified attitude,  dizzy  with  his  fall. 

It  was  certainly  not  with  the  object  of  making 
himself  a  pleasant  addition  to  Eva's  little  party 
that  he  presented  himself  at  her  apartment  that 
night,  but  rather  from  the  unamiable,  if  thoroughly 
human,  instinct  of  venting  his  ill-humour  upon 
someone. 

Eva  herself,  flushed,  concentrated  and  brooding, 
was  so  unlike  the  Eva  of  their  acquaintance,  lo- 


Young  April  275 

quacious  and  energetic  whether  in  joy  or  grief, 
that  neither  of  her  guests  quite  knew  which  way 
now  to  approach  her. 

They  took  their  seats  at  her  bidding,  and  the 
fourth  chair  stood  empty,  a  reproachful  skeleton 
at  the  feast.  Neuberg  cast  many  an  uneasy  glance 
in  its  direction  and  cleared  his  throat  for  action 
several  times.  But  each  time  he  felt  unable  to 
find  words  delicate  enough  to  deal  with  the  un- 
pleasant topic. 

Eva  suddenly  looked  at  him  and  broke  into  a 
harsh  laugh;  then,  turning  to  the  buxom  maid 
who  was  placing  some  dishes  upon  the  table: 
"  Take  away  that  chair,"  said  she ;  "  Mr.  Spencer 
will  not  come  to-night."  Then  she  laughed  again, 
but  no  more  genially,  at  the  officer's  astonished 
countenance.  "  Do  you  think  I  have  no  eyes 
in  my  head,"  she  went  on,  "and  that  because  I 
was  singing  I  could  not  use  them?  My  goodness ! 
were  not  Spencer  and  his  fine  lady  right  under  my 
nose  half  the  evening?  Well,  she  will  be  a  match 
for  him !  Heaven  help  him !  You  are  all  mad,  I 
think,  to  permit  such  a  thing;  it  is  a  crime ! " 

"  Eva,  Eva,  Eva !  "  ejaculated  Neuberg  in  a 
tone  through  which  pity,  entreaty,  rebuke  and 
sympathy  were  intertwined  as  the  strands  of  a 
rope. 


276  Young'  April 

"  Well,"  said  the  Duke,  elaborately  sarcastic,  and 
cutting  a  slice  of  brawn  with  murderous  precision, 
"  however  that  may  be,  one  can  hardly  say  that  the 
Countess  has  found  her  match." 

"  Eh!  "  said  Eva,  turning  upon  him  bodily  with 
a  portentous  sweep,  "  and  what  might  you  mean  by 
that?" 

Neuberg  was  glad  enough  of  the  opportunity  to 
relieve  his  overcharged  feelings. 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  you  young  fool  1 "  he 
growled. 

Rochester  threw  up  his  head  fiercely;  his  eyes 
shone  fresh  duels  and  re-sharpened  swords. 

"  Count  Neuberg  — "  began  he,  but  Eva,  with 
loud  emphasis  and  voluble  speech,  bore  down  the 
boding  quarrel. 

"  You  be  quiet ! "  she  cried,  and  rapped  her 
younger  guest  over  the  finger  with  the  handle  of 
her  fork.  "  Hush !  hush !  not  a  word  more.  What 
is  the  meaning  of  this?  Does  the  child  intend  to 
defy  his  nurse?  Hoity  toity!  As  for  you,  Neu- 
berg, leave  him  alone :  the  lad  is  quite  right ; 
Spencer  is  no  match  for  her.  Alas,  my  poor 
Spencer !  It  is  the  lion  with  the  serpent.  He  will 
draw  her  beauty  to  the  warmth  of  his  great  heart 
and  she  will  luxuriate  in  it  and  coil  herself  round  it ; 
and  one  day  she  will  turn  upon  him,  strike,  and  glide 


Young  April  277 

away,  and  leave  him  with  the  death  poison  in  his 
blood.  My  God!  do  I  not  know  the  species?  It 
is  not  so  uncommon,  I  assure  you,  as  you  think, 
my  poor  young  friend,  and  we  honest  women  — 
we  have  not  a  chance  against  them,  not  one. 
Your  Lucena  is  pretty  enough,  I  grant  you,  in  her 
skinny  way,  and  she  is  a  fine  lady,  a  great  lady 
and  all  the  rest  of  it.  But,  mark  you,  it  is  not  the 
beauty  that  does  it,  and  it  is  not  the  rank,  and  not 
the  cleverness  —  it  is  just  the  devil  in  them !  Ah, 
they  know  exactly  where  to  have  you,  you  men ! 
They  have  but  to  give  the  best  of  you  a  glint  with 
the  tail  of  their  eye,  and  off  you  go  trotting,  like 
so  many  little  dogs.  And  you,  who  won't  let 
your  wives  or  your  sweethearts  or  your  sisters  so 
much  as  call  their  souls  their  own,  you  will  dance 
your  whole  set  of  tricks  for  whatever  such  a  one  is 
pleased  to  throw  you,  and  not  care  if  you  are  one 
of  twenty." 

"  My  dear  Eva ! "  said  Neuberg ;  then  he 
added  constrainedly,  looking  down  at  the  table- 
cloth, "  There  has  never  been  a  breath  against  the 
Countess." 

"  No,  my  son,"  said  Eva,  "  because  she  has  the 
genius  of  her  art.  My  goodness !  how  blind  you 
people  are !  Well,  some  day  you  will  remember 
what  I  say." 


278  Young  April 

"But  surely,"  said  Rochester,  "Mr.  Spencer,  of 
whom  you  all  have  so  high  an  opinion,  is  not  the 
kind  of  man " 

"No,  no,"  interrupted  Eva,  "I  do  not  include 
him  among  the  lapdogs ;  did  I  not  say  he  was  the 
lion?  As  for  you  two,"  she  went  on  more  com- 
posedly, "  this  poor  faithful  mastiff  here  knows 
but  one  mistress,  and  will  follow  her  in  his  blind, 
stupid  way  till  she  plucks  up  heart  to  drive  him 
off  or  starve  him  out." 

She  smiled  as  she  spoke,  an  adorable  tender 
smile  that  lit  up  the  gloom  of  all  their  spirits  like 
a  burst  of  sunshine  through  clouds ;  and,  smiling, 
she  stretched  out  her  hand  and  laid  it  over  Neu- 
berg's,  who,  enthralled  beyond  words  to  express 
himself,  bent  his  head  and  kissed  it,  stammering : 

"  If  you  would ;  ah,  if  you  would !  " 

"  As  for  you,  my  lord,"  proceeded  Eva,  allow- 
ing her  hand  to  linger  in  her  lover's  grasp  and 
turning  her  head  to  the  Duke,  "  you  are  just  the 
kind  of  little  dog  that  will  wag  his  tail  and  do 
pretty  tricks  for  any  kind  lady  that  has  nice  little 
cakes  to  give.  But  I  do  think,  I  will  say  this 
much  for  you,  that  you  would  bite  at  the  heels  and 
snap  at  the  nose  of  any  other  little  dog  that  was 
forward  enough  to  want  to  share  in  the  treat." 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  said  Rochester,  and  was 


Young  April  279 

for  the  space  of  a  minute  in  a  state  of  deadly- 
offence,  balancing  between  two  minds,  whether 
to  rebuke  his  hostess  in  dignified  words  or  to 
cast  his  napkin  aside  and  stalk  in  silence  from 
the  room.  But,  unable  to  rise  to  the  full  height 
required  by  the  situation,  he  merely  sat  and  sulked. 

"  A  match  for  her ! "  cried  Eva,  pursuing  the 
thread  of  her  absorbing  thoughts;  "no,  she  will 
not  find  her  match  here,  unless,"  —  she  paused 
and  snatched  her  hand  away,  —  "  unless  it  is  the 
King." 

Shaken  out  of  his  ill-humour  by  this  extraor- 
dinary statement,  Rochester  glanced  up  to  inter- 
cept a  startled  look  on  Neuberg's  countenance. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  said  she,  relapsing  into 
actual  despondency,  —  "  upon  my  word,  I  do  not 
blame  her.  Why  should  she  not  take  the  best 
that  life  can  give  her  in  her  own  way  ?  It  does 
not  pay  to  have  an  over-delicate  conscience  in  this 
world.  Now,  here  am  I ;  I  have  kept  myself 
straight  and  honest  through  everything  —  kept 
myself  worthy  of  a  good  man's  love  .  .  .  and 
what  have  I  got?  A  careless,  kind  look,  a  passing 
thought.  Poor  Eva !  A  beggar  in  the  street 
would  get  as  much.  While  she —  Oh,  I  am  sick 
of  it  all!  What  is  the  use  of  my  being  good 
as  well  as  handsome  ?  Half  the  people  I  know  do 


280  Young  April 

not  believe  in  it,  and  the  other  half  think :  What 
a  fool ! "  She  broke  into  a  harsh,  jarring  laugh. 
"  A  fool !  that  is  what  I  have  been  —  that  is  what 
I  am  !  Well,  it  is  not  too  late  yet  to  be  wise." 

She  got  up  as  she  spoke,  straightened  her  figure, 
and  threw  out  her  arms.  Neuberg  leaped  up,  too, 
in  a  sort  of  terror,  and  caught  her  to  him  as  if  to 
protect  her. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake  ! "  he  cried. 

"  Oh,"  said  she,  "  if  I  am  a  fool,  what  a  fool  are 
you,  my  poor  friend ! " 

Then  she  pettishly  disengaged  herself  from  his 
grasp  and  took  two  or  three  steps  up  and  down 
the  room  with  an  assumed  air  of  jauntiness  that 
sat  very  ill  upon  her  frank  simplicity. 

"  Did  I  not  sing  very  well  ? "  she  asked.  "  I 
think  I  created  a  most  favourable  impression. 
Your  King  is  a  fine-looking  man,  Gustaf." 

Neuberg  first  laughed  at  this  childish  taunt ;  the 
next  instant  he  looked  grave,  opened  his  mouth  to 
speak,  but  closed  it  again  dumbly. 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door, 
and  Triidchen,  entering,  gaspingly  announced  that 
a  gentleman  officer — a  very  fine  officer — requested 
a  few  moments'  private  interview  with  the  Fraulein 
Visconti. 

"  A  private  interview  1 "  ejaculated  Neuberg,  in 


Young  April  281 

a  towering  rage,  before  Eva  had  time  to  respond 
—  "a  private  interview !  What  devil's  impudence 
is  this  ?  Send  him  back  to  his  brimstone  home  — 
or,  stay,  have  him  shown  up  here.  What  can  the 
scoundrel  have  to  say  to  you  in  private,  I  should 
like  to  know !  No,  better  still,  I  will  go  down 
and  see  to  this  myself." 

Fuming,  he  reached  for  his  sword-belt,  but  Eva 
waved  him  aside. 

"  Ta-ta-ta-ta !  you  give  your  orders  very  freely 
in  my  house,  young  man :  a  little  more  modesty, 
if  you  please.  Pray,  are  you  the  only  fine  officer 
I  am  to  admit  to  private  interviews  ?  " 

She  turned  to  Triidchen  hereupon  and  bade 
her  admit  the  gentleman  to  the  little  parlour 
downstairs,  whither  she  would  immediately  her- 
self follow. 

"  Eva,  Eva ! "  remonstrated  her  lover,  with 
something  between  a  whine  and  a  growl. 

But  she,  with  an  air  of  the  most  profound  in- 
difference, settled  her  curls  before  the  glass, 
twitched  her  laces,  smoothed  her  skirts,  and 
sailed  majestically  from  the  room. 

"  Now,  you  be  quiet ! "  she  cried  sharply  over 
her  shoulder  as  her  quick  ear  caught  Neuberg's 
surreptitious  tread  behind  her,  and  she  slammed 
the  door  in  his  face. 


282  Young  April 

"  Devil's  brew !  "  said  Neuberg,  and  ground  his 
heel. 

The  Duke  stared;  he  was  beginning  to  forget 
his  own  grievances  in  the  interest  of  the  drama 
that  was  being  played  around  him. 

Neuberg  went  to  the  door,  set  it  ajar  and  stood 
listening  intently,  his  hand  upon  his  sword.  All 
was  silence  in  the  house  —  silence  singular  and 
suspicious. 

Absently  gazing  at  each  other,  the  two  men 
waited,  every  nerve  on  the  stretch,  while  Eva's 
little  clock  ticked  out  an  interminable  quarter  of 
an  hour.  At  last  there  was  the  noise  of  opening 
doors  below,  of  clanking  heels,  the  slam  of  the 
house  door;  then  the  rustle  of  Eva's  skirts  and 
her  step  slow  upon  the  stairs. 

With  an  unconsciously  comical  glance  at  his 
friend,  Neuberg  retreated  on  tiptoe  to  his  chair. 
Both  watched  eagerly  for  the  singer's  entrance. 

She  came  in  with  the  same  lagging  step,  wrapped 
as  in  a  mantle  of  profound  reflection.  In  her  hand 
she  held  a  magnificent  bouquet  of  exotic  flowers. 

Neuberg's  quick  jealousy  was  once  more  all 
aflame.  He  clenched  his  hands  to  keep  them 
from  snatching  the  gift  from  her  grasp. 

"  Who  is  it  ?     What  did  he  want  ?  " 

Eva  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  without  speak- 


Young  April  283 

ing;  then  she  looked  down  at  her  flowers  and 
pulled  the  leaves  with  the  tips  of  her  fingers. 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you,"  said  she,  "  that  I  had  a 
success  this  evening?"  but  her  voice  had  not  its 
usual  frank  ring. 

"Who  is  it?"  repeated  Neuberg,  coming  close 
up  to  her. 

Rochester  saw  that  he  was  trembling,  that 
his  handsome  gay  countenance  had  grown  quite 
livid. 

She  faced  him  with  a  sudden  quick  movement ; 
their  eyes  were  nearly  on  a  level. 

"I  never  gave  you,  that  I  know  of,  the  right 
to  question  me.  Pray,  may  I  not  have  admirers 
as  well  as  other  people?  Oh,  I  have  got  one 
worth  having  this  time !  "  She  laughed  bitterly. 
"It  is  as  I  said:  I  am  sick  of  being  good;  I  am 
going  to  enjoy  myself !  " 

With  a  sudden  savagely  abrupt  movement  she 
snatched  from  the  bosom  of  her  low  dress  a  hand- 
ful of  jewels  —  jewels  that  flashed  and  sparkled, 
a  living  stream  of  green  fire,  in  her  fingers  —  and 
flung  them  on  the  table  amid  the  homely  viands. 

With  starting  eyeballs  Neuberg  glared  at 
them,  but  to  his  fury  words  refused  themselves. 
The  Duke  came  up  to  her,  small,  cool,  self-pos- 
sessed, and  took  her  hand. 


284  Young  April 

"My  kind  nurse,"  he  said,  "you  do  not  mean 
this." 

He  looked  at  her  with  grandfatherly  serious- 
ness ;  then  he  picked  the  riviere  of  emeralds  off 
the  ham,  the  bracelet  from  the  salt-cellar,  and 
wiped  them  daintily  with  his  napkin.  "  You  will 
promise  us  to  return  these  presents  to  their 
donor." 

Before  he  had  finished  speaking,  Neuberg 
clutched  them  from  him,  looked  at  them  keenly, 
and  then  at  the  woman. 

"You  know  what  these  are  worth,"  he  said,  in 
an  ominously  quiet  voice.  "  There  is  only  one 
man  in  this  town  could  make  such  presents.  Eva, 
you  don't  know  what  you  are  doing.  I  will 
restore  them." 

Eva  turned  from  one  to  the  other  of  the  ear- 
nest, brave  young  faces  and  her  lips  trembled 
for  a  moment;  then  she  held  out  her  hand. 

"  Those  are  mine,"  she  said  doggedly  ;  "  restore 
them  to  me,  if  you  please." 

Without  a  word  Neuberg  handed  them  to  her. 
She  clasped  the  necklace  round  her  throat,  and 
the  bracelet  round  her  wrist. 

"  They  become,  do  they  not,"  said  she,  "  my 
bronze  hair  ?  " 

"I  never  thought,"  said  Neuberg,  in   a   harsh 


"'THEY   BECOME,   DO  THEY   NOT,'   SAID  SHE,   'MY   BRONZE  HAIR?' 


Young  April  285 

voice,  "that  you  could  look  ugly,  Eva,  but  with 
these  things  upon  you  —  oh,  heavens,  you  are 
hideous !  Come,  Rochester,  let  us  go." 

"  Oh,  go,  go ! "  cried  the  woman,  breaking  into 
sudden  ill-temper.  "  And  a  pleasant  pair  you 
have  been,  and  a  pleasant  supper  we  have  had 
together  ! " 

Neuberg,  pale  as  death,  made  her  a  formal  bow. 
At  the  door  she  called  him  back  tauntingly. 

"  So  I  am  hideous,"  she  said.  "  Look  again, 
Neuberg  —  look  again !  Do  they  not  become  me  ? 
Are  they  not  a  right  royal  gift?" 

Neuberg  pushed  the  Englishman  violently  out 
before  him;  they  fled  clattering  down  the  stairs. 
But  in  the  street  he  suddenly  halted  and  flung 
himself  against  the  wall  of  the  house  with  a 
groan. 

"And  to  think,"  said  he,  "that  she  would 
never  take  from  me  anything  more  lasting  than 
a  flower!" 

"She  is  not  herself,"  said  the  Duke  consol- 
ingly." 

"  No,"  said  Neuberg ;  "  and  that  is  the  danger. 
If  she  were  but  to  her  own  self  true,  all  would  be 
well ;  but  in  this  mood  and  with  such  a  man " 

"  Is  it  really  the  King  ?  "  whispered  the  Duke, 
awestruck. 


286  Young  April 

The  officer's  only  answer  was  a  glance  of  de- 
spair and  a  gesture  indicating  his  own  epaulettes. 
Then  fury  again  convulsed  him. 

"I  would  tear  them  from  me,"  he  said,  after  a 
pause,  in  a  strangled  voice ;  "  but,  though  they 
bind  my  tongue  and  hands,  yet  they  alone  give 
me  freedom  to  remain  near  her." 

"Oh,  cheer  up,  old  fellow!  are  there  not  two 
of  us?  It  will  be  all  right,  you  will  see,"  cried 
Rochester,  deeply  moved  and,  in  his  inability  to 
express  his  feelings,  relapsing  into  schoolboy  awk- 
wardness. But  inwardly  he  was  making  a  mighty 
and  a  manly  resolve,  and  felt  the  soreness  of  his 
own  aching  heart  sensibly  assuaged  thereby. 


XXIX 

"Love  is  a  smoke  raised  with  the  fume  of  sighs; 
Being  purg'd,  a  fire  sparkling  in  lovers'  eyes ; 
Being  vex'd,  a  sea  nourished  with  lovers'  tears  : 
What  is  it  else?  —  a  madness  most  discreet, 
A  choking  gall,  and  a  preserving  sweet." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

SPENCER  was  pacing  up  and  down  the  room  in 
loose  slippered  feet.  He  alternately  puffed  at  and 
waved  his  long  meerschaum  pipe,  blissfully  uncon- 
scious of  its  extinction.  At  every  turn  he  made 
a  little  halt  and  his  eyes  sought,  and  rested  for  a 
few  seconds  upon,  the  little  cup  of  delicate  yellow 
Sevres  china  for  which  a  space  had  been  cleared  on 
his  mantel-shelf.  Neuberg  sat,  moodily  hunched 
up  in  the  leather  armchair,  his  elbows  on  his  knees ; 
his  profile,  lit  by  the  ray  of  the  reading-lamp,  was 
twisted  into  bitter  lines ;  his  eyes  glowered  into 
space.  It  was  a  most  unwonted  attitude  for  the 
smart  and  buoyant  Life  Guardsman. 

Tingling  in  every  nerve  from  the  rapidity  and 
passion  of  emotional  life  into  which,  from  the  slug- 

287 


288  Young  April 

gish  stream  of  his  previous  existence,  he  now  found 
himself  flung  as  into  a  whirlpool  of  unknown  depth 
and  force,  young  Rochester,  with  a  flush  on  each 
pale  cheek,  sat  on  one  of  the  little  hard  cane  chairs, 
sadly  listening  to  his  two  friends. 

At  times  he  shunned  their  company ;  the  pres- 
ence of  Spencer  was  as  a  blister  to  his  sensibility  ; 
the  name  of  Julia  from  those  lips,  the  happy  smile, 
the  tender  silence  of  the  favoured  lover  —  all  this 
was  more  than  he  could  endure.  And  at  such 
moments  he  would  plunge  alone  into  the  open 
country  to  confide  his  sorrows  to  the  fields  and 
skies,  or  dream  in  the  heart  of  some  scented  dell 
dear  impossible  dreams,  as  sweet  and  single-minded 
and  foolishly  young  as  April  itself.  But  at  other 
times  he  would  feel  that  to  be  alone  with  his  own 
unrest  was  the  one  thing  unbearable  ;  that  to  hear 
all  that  he  could  hear  of  her,  to  study  every  phase 
of  this  courtship,  which  seemed  to  him  every  day 
more  inexplicable  and  more  unsuitable,  had  become 
a  necessity,  horrible  but  stringent. 

And  though  the  Countess  rode  daily  with  her 
lover  —  on  Zuleika,  his  gift  —  daily  also  did 
Rochester  see  her,  too,  if  only  for  a  minute,  and 
never  without  carrying  away  with  him  a  little  more 
oil  for  the  foolish,  starveling  flame  in  his  heart. 

"  The  man  who  has  not  known  love,"  said  the 


Young  April  289 

Philosopher,  taking  up  the  thread  of  his  discourse 
after  a  rapturous  pause  of  contemplation,  "has 
never  known  life.  He  is  the  blind  man  who  has 
never  seen  colour  nor  form,  light  nor  shade ;  the 
deaf  man  whose  sealed  ears  have  gathered  no 
sound  but  the  dull  booming  of  his  own  arteries, 
the  man  to  whom  the  thunder  of  God  or  the 
nightingale's  voice  have  alike  no  meaning.  He  is 
as  the  dumb  who  has  never  spoken  to  his  kind. 
Nay,  he  is  as  the  dead  —  worse  than  the  dead,  for 
his  inert  flesh  has  never  harboured  anything  but 
an  unvivified  soul." 

Neuberg  turned  his  moody  eyes  upon  the 
speaker. 

"Well,  I  never  thought  I  should  live  to  hear 
you  drivel,  Michael,"  growled  he. 

Spencer,  from  the  further  end  of  the  room, 
turned  his  head,  smiling  : 

" '  My  gentle  Proteus,  Love's  a  mighty  lord,  and 
hath  so  humbled  me.' ' 

"I  thought,"  pursued  Neuberg,  unmollified, 
"  that  you,  at  least,  amid  the  general  lunacy  that 
seems  to  have  come  over  us  all  would  have  kept 
your  sanity,  but  you  are  as  bad  as  the  rest.  You 
have  given  that  woman  everything  :  your  liberty, 
your  individuality,  your  time,  your  wits,  your 
horse,  yourself  !  It  is  madness  !  " 


290  Young  April 

"  Madness  ! "  echoed  his  friend,  who  inhaled 
and  expelled  an  imaginary  puff  of  tobacco-smoke 
from  his  lips,  and  again  waved  his  pipe  ;  "  time 
was  indeed  when  I  was  mad.  But  now  I  am  sane 

—  sane  at  last !     'Now  no  discourse  except  it  be 
of  love,'  now  '  can  I  break  my  fast,  dine,  sup  and 
sleep  upon  the  very  naked  name  of  love  ! ' ' 

"  Bah  !  "  cried  the  other,  with  an  angry  snort, 
and  looked  sharply  away  as  if  the  sight  of  the 
Philosopher's  illumined  countenance  were  more 
than  he  could  bear. 

The  Philosopher,  however,  airily  resumed  his 
walk.  His  step  was  springy,  and  the  skirt  of  his 
dressing-gown  floated  as  he  went. 

A  pause  fell  and  the  night  sounds  seemed  to 
grow  louder  from  without.  A  dog  bayed,  a  cock 
crew ;  then  the  church  clocks  far  and  near  pro- 
claimed a  quarter. 

"  Can  it  be,"  cried  Neuberg,  with  a  sudden  burst 
of  furious  irritation,  beating  his  knee  with  his 
hand,  "  that  the  best  and  the  wisest  are  thus  turned 
in  an  hour  into  toys  for  the  sport  of  the  most 
capricious,  the  most  wanton  ?  What  are  you  now, 
Michael,  but  an  air-balloon  floating  on  the  breath 
of  a  woman's  lips  ?  What  is  Eva  .  .  .  ?  What 

—  what  is  this  love  that  can  so  rule  and  ruin  us  ?  " 
"I  will  tell   you,"   said  Mr.    Spencer,   halting 


Young  April  291 

before  his  friend  and  smiling  upon  him,  a  vast, 
benign  figure,  from  his  uplifted  height.  "It  is 
the  springtime  of  our  human  life,  carissimo.  To 
some  it  comes  early,  to  some  it  comes  late  ;  to 
some  in  all  haste  :  the  passion  of  an  hour  ;  to  some 
with  slow,  gradual,  beautiful  development.  To 
some  it  comes  not  at  all.  But  those  are  the  base, 
or  the  too  unfortunate,  and  those  we  will  leave  out 
of  reckoning.  With  the  spring  all  Nature  awakes, 
life  courses  through  her,  the  earth  is  quickened, 
sap  flows  back  to  the  dried  twigs,  tender  and 
lovely  flowers  break  on  the  black  sod,  bare  places 
are  clothed  with  green,  the  silent  birds  gather 
voice,  the  new  heart  beats  in  the  shell,  the  impris- 
oned streams  rush  forth.  That  is  Spring  I  and 
that  is  Love  !  But  you  have  felt  it,  Gustaf  — 
you  do  not  need  my  word." 

Rochester  saw  Neuberg's  lips  writhe  in  a  sar- 
castic smile. 

"A  very  powerful  frost  has  nipped  my  little 
season  in  the  bud,"  said  the  officer.  "And  do 
you  call  yours  and  the  Grafin  de  Lucena's  passion 
for  each  other  spring,  my  good  friend  ?  There  is 
a  kind  of  torrid  heat  about  you  two  that  rather 
disturbs  the  simile." 

"  Well,  I  will  find  another  for  you  —  a  hundred, 
if  you  like."  Spencer  laughed  gently  as  he  spoke : 


292  Young  April 

"Love  is  the  sun  of  life  that  turns  all  that  it 
touches  to  beauty :  the  bit  of  broken  glass  in  the 
gutter  into  a  flashing  jewel,  the  empty  straw  into 
a  bar  of  gold,  the  whitewashed  attic  into  a  palace 
chamber,  men's  sorrowful  and  stormy  pilgrimage 
on  this  earth  into  a  long  dream  of  paradise,  the 
common  round  of  life,  the  small  daily  task,  into 
something  precious,  something  full  of  wonder. 
You  see  that  cup?  She  gave  it  me.  What 
is  it?  A  mere  eggshell  bit  of  clay.  For  me  it 
beams  like  a  star  ;  it  speaks  a  thousand  tongues  ; 
it  speaks  of  her.  A  draught  from  it " 

Here  Neuberg  interrupted  him  ruthlessly,  and 
harping  back  to  the  first  part  of  his  friend's  sen- 
tence, "  Oh,  fatal  simile !  "  cried  he,  between  a 
laugh  and  a  groan  —  "a  bit  of  glass  into  a 
diamond,  a  brittle  straw  into  a  bar  of  gold. 
Oh,  my  friend,  have  I  built  with  straw?  Have 
you  picked  up  the  mock  jewel?" 

Spencer  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  with  a 
startled  eye,  then  he  broke  again  into  his  tol- 
erant, amused  laugh. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  let  us  call  love  by  what  name 
you  will,  it  is  yet  the  spark  that  divinizes  poor 
humanity,  the  motor  spring  of  its  best  energies. 
It  is  love  of  his  Creator  that  uplifts  the  saint ; 
it  is  love  of  his  fellow-man  that  makes  the  philan- 


Young  April  293 

thropist ;  love  for  his  country,  the  hero ;  love  of 
his  people,  the  ruler.  But  it  is  love  between  man 
and  woman  alone,  that  divine  double  selfishness, 
that  makes  happiness,  and  it  is  happiness  keeps 
the  world  from  chaos." 

"  I  never  thought,  either,"  said  Neuberg,  "  that 
I  should  live  to  see  you  selfish.  You  had  not 
a  minute  to  spare  from  your  happiness  all  these 
days.  All  the  claims  of  the  old  friend  could  not 
drag  you  from  the  side  of  the  new  love.  Oh,  for 
God's  sake  !  be  your  own  old  self  but  for  half  an 
hour,  and  let  us  talk  sense.  Everything  is  going 
wrong,  Michael :  Eva  is  in  danger  —  that  Sachs 
was  there  again  to-day,  and  she  and  I  have  quar- 
relled. She  has  forbidden  me  her  door.  And  I 
must  be  dumb"  —  he  struck  his  mouth  fiercely 
—  "  dumb  even  to  you  !  " 

Spencer  deposited  his  pipe  on  the  table  and 
seemed  momentarily  surprised  to  find  it  cold ; 
then  he  came  over  to  Neuberg  and  laid  his  hand 
upon  his  shoulders.  His  voice,  expression,  bear- 
ing, were  all  altered. 

"Believe  me,  Gustaf,"  said  he,  "did  I  appre- 
hend what  you  do,  I  would  instantly  take  steps 
to  interfere.  You  know  what  little  store  I  set 
by  that  tinsel  decoration,  Royal  favour;  never- 
theless, were  it  as  precious  to  me  as  it  is  to  most 


294  Young  April 

men,  I  should  not  hesitate  a  moment.  But  you 
are  wrong.  Let  Eva  talk,  let  her  play  at  reck- 
lessness, at  heart  she  is  too  sound,  in  temper  she 
is  too  proud,  her  head  is  too  clear  —  she  will 
never  fail!  As  for  the  King,  I  have  had  time 
to  diagnose  his  character :  in  spite  of  many 
faults,  he  is  an  honourable  man.  He  has  noble 
qualities.  You  are  his  friend  as  well  as  his  ser- 
vant; he  knows  of  your  love  for  Eva  —  need  I 
say  more  ?  " 

Neuberg  lifted  upon  him  a  dull  and  hopeless  eye. 

"  No,  you  need  say  no  more,"  he  answered,  in 
a  tone  of  muffled  resentment.  He  stood  up  as 
he  spoke,  stiffened  himself,  buckled  on  his  sword, 
then  suddenly  turned  upon  Spencer  with  another 
gust  of  passion.  "  Well,  shall  I  tell  you, "  said 
he,  "  what  love  is  ?  It  is  part  of  the  curse  of 
our  fallen  race ;  it  is  the  bait  put  into  the  hands 
of  the  devil,  who,  we  are  taught,  roams  the  earth 
unseen  to  trap  us  into  fury  and  madness,  into 
crime  and  despair.  It  is  the  Dead  Sea  fruit,  fair 
to  the  eye,  ash  on  the  lips;  it  is  the  mother  of 
jealousy,  and  envy,  and  dissension,  of  treachery, 
hypocrisy,  hatred,  murder."  His  voice,  always 
harsh  in  excitement,  grew  more  and  more  rasping 
as  he  spat  each  bitter  word  louder  and  louder  at 
his  friend.  "Love  .  .  it  is  what  kindles  the 


Young  April      '  295 

flames  of  hell  in  our  souls  and  keeps  the  place 
warm  for  us  below.  It  has  made  my  sweet  Eva 
a  tortured,  reckless  woman;  it  makes  you,  you  a 
callous,  self-absorbed,  unfeeling  man;  it  makes 
...  it  makes  Rochester  there  an  insufferable 
popinjay!  It  is  making  me  —  what  I  am  to- 
night!" 

He  stamped  his  foot,  seized  his  cap,  and  dashed 
out  of  the  room,  slamming  the  door  behind  him. 
The  clang  of  his  spurs  rang  into  the  silence  of 
the  house  and  rose  again  in  fury  up  to  the  open 
window  from  the  street  below,  to  die  away  into 
the  night. 

Spencer  had  made  no  attempt  to  arrest  him, 
and  stood  listening  with  bent  head.  Rochester 
had  grown  quite  white. 

"  Poor  fellow ! "  said  the  Philosopher  at  last, 
"it  goes  hard  with  him.  But  between  him  and 
Eva  no  man,  least  of  all  myself,  may  dare  slip  a 
finger  now.  They  must  fight  their  own  battle. 
Yet,  mark  you,  young  man,"  he  went  on,  falling 
back  into  his  didactic  manner,  "  he  is  doing  Eva 
a  grave  injustice  in  his  fears.  There  is  just  one 
thing  she  will  never  do " 

"There  are  rumours  at  the  Court  already, 
nevertheless,"  interrupted  Rochester  in  a  low 
voice. 


296  Young  April 

"  Rumours! "  echoed  Spencer  scornfully.  Then, 
after  a  reflecting  pause  :  "  Poor  child  !  It  is  a 
cruel  world.  All  alone  !  She  must  not  be  ex- 
posed to  that  if  it  can  be  helped.  And  here  a 
man's  word  is  worse  than  useless  —  remember 
that,  Duke  ;  an  incautious  defence  of  a  woman 
by  a  man  is  sometimes  the  remedy  that  is  worse 
in  the  end  than  the  disease.  But  a  woman,  a 
woman's  tact,  a  look,  a  single  word,  can  silence 
evil  tongues.  I  will  see  to  it." 

Rochester  rose  to  leave.  He  felt,  with  the  in- 
experience of  youth  suddenly  brought  to  face  the 
sordid  part  of  life,  disgusted  with  it,  and  indig- 
nant at  the  toleration  of  others,  and  moreover  he 
was  as  unconvinced  as  Neuberg  himself.  His 
sympathies,  too,  were  all  with  the  latter.  It  was 
Spencer's  incongruous  engagement  to  the  Count- 
ess that  had  started  the  wheel  of  misfortune,  and 
his  own  pride  was  still  smarting. 

"  I  hope  you  are  right,  Mr.  Spencer,"  said  he  ; 
"  but  no  one  knows  of  what  folly  a  woman  may  be 
capable." 

He  shook  his  head  with  the  hoary  wisdom  of 
his  years  and  with  some  formality  took  his  de- 
parture. 

Spencer  laughed  to  himself  when  the  door 
closed.  "  These  April  bloods  !  "  thought  he  — 


Young  April  297 

"  these  pushing  shoots  who  deem  their  immature 
buds  to  be  the  finished  fruits  of  earth! " 

He  ran  his  hands  through  his  hair,  and  sighed 
luxuriously  to  find  himself  alone.  The  most  gre- 
garious of  humans,  he  was  at  the  same  time  the 
most  complacent  of  his  own  solitary  good  com- 
pany. He  glanced  round  reflectively  at  his 
writing-desk,  at  his  books,  and  hesitated.  Then 
his  eye  fell  upon  the  little  cup  and  grew  brood- 
ing. He  reached  for  his  pipe,  filled  it,  gravitated 
towards  his  armchair,  and,  cross-legged,  began  to 
smoke  and  to  muse,  still  gazing  at  the  cup. 

His  thoughts  from  his  happy  garret  floated  over 
the  sleeping  town,  passed  the  guard  of  the  Palace, 
reached  an  amber-veiled  room,  the  scented  casket 
where  rested  his  beloved.  Lying  like  a  lily  just 
mown,  straight  and  stately  and  pure,  he  saw  her 
sleeping  in  the  soft  light. 

***** 

Amid  gossamer  sheets  and  laces,  satin  hangings 
and  down  pillows,  the  woman  lay,  staring  with 
fevered  eyes  far  into  the  watches  of  the  night,  her 
brain  working  yearningly,  yet  angrily,  round  an 
unsolvable  problem. 

***** 

When   Spencer's   pipe  went  out  and  his  lamp 


298  Young  April 

had  burnt  low,  lie  got  up  to  seek  his  rest ;  but  he 
took  with  him  the  cup  from  the  shelf  and  placed 
it  on  the  sill  of  his  uncurtained  window,  where 
the  first  rays  of  the  rising  sun  would  strike  its 
yellow  cheek. 


XXX 

"Dost  know  this  water-fly? 
No,  my  good  lord. 
Thy  state  is  the  more  gracious." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

OF  set  purpose,  Rochester  had  thrown  himself 
a  good  deal  into  Court  circles  during  these  latter 
days.  He  had  that  afternoon  held  short  but  viva- 
cious converse  with  a  certain  mercurial  young 
gentleman  of  the  Queen's  household,  one  Ernst 
von  Manteuf el,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  minutes 
had  had  his  mind  considerably  opened  to  the 
mysteries  of  Palace  life. 

The  talk  first  fell  upon  his  own  beautiful  country- 
woman ;  and  the  Duke,  unable  to  arrest  his  com- 
panion's tongue,  felt  every  chivalrous  instinct 
within  him  rise  against  the  malice  that  sought  to 
blast  by  sheer  innuendo  the  fair  name  of  a  soli- 
tary woman,  against  whom  it  was  evident  no  posi- 
tive allegation  could  be  made. 

A  Diana,  said  the  scandal-monger  —  a  positive 
Diana !  Chastity  personified !  Certainly.  Peo- 
299 


3OO  Young  April 

pie  said  that  in  Florence  it  was  a  case  of  safety  in 
numbers.  He  !  he  !  A  follower  of  St.  Paul's 
counsel,  jrou  know  —  all  things  to  all  men.  But 
that  was  mere  gossip  —  irresponsible  gossip;  he 
did  not  believe  it.  The  Queen's  friend  —  that 
was  enough.  The  fair  Julia  did  seem  to  have 
been  moving  under  a  cloud  lately  ;  Her  Majesty 
was  supposed  to  have  withdrawn  her  countenance. 
Why,  no  one  quite  ventured  to  put  into  words  .  .  . 

"I  should  think  not,"  said  Rochester  discour- 
agingly.  "The  invention  of  some  empty  fool." 

"Quite  so,"  agreed  Manteufel  heartily. 
"  Whether,"  added  he,  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
"old  Melk  grubbed  up  anything  about  the  past 
or  present,  I  do  not  know.  She  was  always 
deadly  jealous  of  the  Grafin.  People  say  that  on 
the  very  day  of  these  extraordinary  betrothals  — 
with  Mr.  Spencer,  you  know  —  she  insulted  the 
Grafin  Lucena  so  disgracefully  that  the  latter, 
just  as  she  was  going  in  to  the  Queen,  broke  her 
fan  across  her  face.  Anyhow,  Melk's  nose  bled  ; 
and  as  Donna  Julia  was  all  in  favour  again,  Her 
Majesty  told  old  Melk  that  she  was  evidently  not 
in  a  proper  state  of  health  to  attend  to  her  duties, 
and  sent  her  home  to  recruit  —  he  !  he  !  A  good 
riddance  for  us  all ! " 

Here  he  looked  cautiously  around  him,  edged  a 


Young  April  301 

step  closer  to  the  Duke,  and  whispered  behind  his 
hand: 

"  Have  you  noticed  the  Grafin's  Jdger  ?  Some 
people  say  that  he  could  explain  a  good  deal." 

"Herr  von  Manteufel,"  cried  Rochester,  start- 
ing, "I  do  not  understand  you,  and —  Hush! 
I  don't  want  to." 

Manteufel's  innocent  pink  countenance  bore 
the  impress  of  the  most  intense  astonishment  for 
a  second  ;  then  he  nodded  good-humouredly. 

"  Quite  right,  my  lord,"  said  he,  and  stepped 
back.  "  Not  fair  —  not  fair  at  all ;  I  am  quite  of 
your  opinion.  Ah,  Mr.  Spencer  is  a  lucky  fellow! 
Potzblitz!  we  would  all  give  our  ears  to  stand 
in  his  boots  !  Extraordinary  man !  Have  you 
known  him  long?  —  ever  heard  of  him  in  Eng- 
land ?  Ah  !  I  thought  not.  They  do  not  want 
him  over  there.  Mystery,  you  know  —  mystery ! 
They  say  he  came  with  letters  from  your  King. 
Gay  dog  in  his  youth,  eh,  your  King  George? 
Positively,  my  dear  lord  "  —  here  he  edged  a  step 
nearer,  and  his  voice  sank  —  "I  have  seen  a  por- 
trait of  George  of  England  in  his  youth —  the 
image,  the  very  image  of  our  friend  !  Why,  I 
heard  His  Majesty  call  him  cousin  myself  !  Ex- 
traordinary person,  anyhow.  The  power  of  mes- 
merism—  oh,  have  you  not  heard?  The  poor 


3O2  Young  April 

Grafin  was  quite  in  his  power  —  had  no  idea  of 
what  happened.  But  His  Majesty  insists  on  the 
marriage ;  so  does  the  Queen.  They  quite  exon- 
erate her,  you  understand,  so  large-minded  they 
are." 

"  Really,  Herr  von  Manteufel,"  interrupted  the 
Duke,  "you  forget  that  Mr.  Spencer  is  a  friend 
of  mine,  and  that  I  am  in  a  position  to  contradict 
any  such  wanton  absurdity." 

"  Absurdity  ? "  replied  the  buoyant  little  gentle- 
man, quite  unabashed  ;  "  my  dear  Duke,  that  is 
the  very  word  —  I  used  it  myself !  But,  indeed, 
it  was  no  other  person  than  his  bosom  friend, 
Count  Neuberg,  who  spread  that  story  of  the 
Professor's  mesmeric  gift.  Mesmeric  !  Pooh  ! 
He  has  not  the  eye  for  it,  my  lord,  nor  the  power. 
But,  then,  we  all  know  that  dear  Neuberg  is  such 
a  simpleton  —  the  laughing-stock,  sir,  the  laugh- 
ing-stock of  the  Court !  I  ask  you,  you  as  a  man 
of  the  world  .  .  .  there  is  a  fellow  who  has  been 
six  months  our  King's  Equerry,  and  never  rests 
till  he  can  bring  his  mistress  under  the  Royal 
eye  !  Six  months  with  His  Majesty,  and  as  good 
as  throws  his  fair  one  into  the  Royal  arms.  And 
mind  you,  my  lord,  the  fool  loves  her.  It  is  not 
as  if  he  wanted  to  get  rid  of  her  !  " 

Rochester  with  a  black  look  laid  his  hand  on 


Young  April  303 

the  speaker's  arm.  It  was  a  light  touch,  but  it 
imposed  silence. 

"  May  I  ask,"  said  he,  in  ominously  quiet  tones, 
"to  whom  you  refer,  when  you  speak  of  my  friend 
Count  Neuberg's  mistress  ?  " 

"  You  English,  ah,  you  English  !  "  cackled  the 
other,  after  a  second's  pause.  "  Is  it  possible  thus 
to  look  over  what  is  actually  under  your  nose? 
Why,  the  Visconti,  the  singer,  the  beauty  !  She 
has  been  his  mistress  for  years.  He !  lie  I  Pos- 
tilion, you  did  drive  her  a  little  way  off  the  road, 
though  ;  we  know  that  —  shocking,  shocking  ! 
Mais  on  en  revient  toujours.  .  .  .  Eh  I  Well, 
upon  my  soul,  you  have  both  good  taste  —  and 
good  luck.  But  so  has  His  Majesty,  mind  you. 
Have  you  heard?"  Here  the  hand  went  up 
again,  and  the  discreet  whisper  recommenced. 
"  Have  you  heard  that  the  very  night  of  the 
concert  —  the  very  night,  sir  —  oh,  I  have  it  from 
the  page  of  the  Bedchamber  —  His  Majesty  was 
closeted  with  Herr  von  Sachs,  who  sallied  forth 
into  our  good  town  with  the  most  blatant  air  of 
mystery  ?  Ah,  ha  !  we  all  know  when  the  Cen- 
taur is  playing  Mercury  —  he  is  about  as  fit  for  it 
as  a  wild-boar  to  dance  the  minuet ;  perhaps  there 
are  others  more  fit,  and  one  day  His  Majesty  may 
cast  his  eye  around  him  with  clearer  vision  .  .  . 


304  Young  April 

but  passons.  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  Sachs  sallied 
forth  mysteriously  wrapped  in  his  cloak ;  he  was 
carrying  a  casket,  and  in  that  casket  a  certain  set 
of  emeralds  as  large  as  nuts.  I  know  all  about 
them  —  I  have  seen  them  .  .  .  but  that  is  too 
long  a  story.  I  will  tell  it  you  another  time. 
Now  it  seems  that  the  Visconti's  maid  has  been 
bragging  in  the  market-place  of  the  lovely  green 
stones  her  mistress  has  been  given.  I  say  noth- 
ing :  deduce  for  yourself.  But  if  we  do  not  find 
His  Majesty  making  a  little  tour  soon  to  his 
hunting-box  —  just  to  ascertain  the  prospects  of 
sport,  you  understand  —  and  if  the  Visconti  is 
not  suddenly  indisposed  about  the  same  time  — 
singers  call  such  occurrences  sore  throats,  I  be- 
lieve—  I  should  be  greatly  surprised,  greatly." 

"  Pah  !  "  said  the  Duke.  They  were  strolling 
up  and  down  the  terrace.  He  spat  upon  the 
path,  took  out  his  embroidered  handkerchief,  and 
wiped  his  lips  with  a  grimace  of  disgust.  (Man- 
teufel  thought  the  action  rather  vulgar  for  an 
English  Duke.)  Then  he  suddenly  turned  on 
his  companion. 

"  Have  you  been  long  at  Court  yourself,  Herr 
von  Manteufel  ?  " 

Herr  von  Manteufel  was  slightly  embarrassed, 
but,  pushed  by  a  compelling  eye,  admitted  six 
weeks. 


Young  April  305 

"So  long!"  said  the  Duke;  "you  surprise 
me  !  " 

He  stood  for  a  moment  contemplating  reflect- 
ively the  simpering  countenance  before  him,  the 
owner  of  which  was  convinced  that  he  had  made 
himself  fascinating  and  entertaining  to  the  last 
degree. 

The  young  Englishman  itched  to  bring  his  open 
palm  in  sounding  contact  with  that  smooth  cheek, 
but  there  were  a  thousand  good  reasons  against 
the  gratification  of  so  purely  selfish  an  impulse. 
He  had  sought  the  little  scandal-monger  for  the 
purpose  of  keeping  himself  informed  of  the  Court 
gossip,  and  not  only  might  a  duel  put  him  out  of 
favour  in  Court,  but  it  would  bring  Eva's  name 
into  undeserved  notoriety.  And  towards  her, 
according  to  his  tacit  vow,  and  with  the  undoubt- 
ing  complacency  of  youth,  he  was  now  determined 
to  act  the  part  of  guardian  angel.  He  bowed, 
therefore,  and  took  his  leave  of  Herr  von  Man- 
teufel  with  sarcastic  politeness. 

His  brow  was  heavily  clouded  with  a  sense  of 
care  and  importance  as  he  walked  away.  Irre- 
sponsible as  was  the  information  imparted  by  his 
new  acquaintance,  he  had  heard  enough  from  other 
and  sufficiently  reliable  quarters  to  make  him  real- 
ize how  dangerous  a  rival  the  King  was  likely  to 


306  Young  April 

prove  to  any  man.  He  was  moved  to  call  upon 
Eva  immediately,  and  to  speak  words  of  wisdom 
to  her  ;  but  this  laudable  intention  was  frustrated 
by  the  embargo  the  singer  had  laid  upon  her  door  : 

"The  Fraulein  is  at  home  to  no  one." 

His  Grace's  feelings  were  exceedingly  ruffled ; 
he  now  felt  inclined  to  wash  his  hands  loftily  of 
the  whole  concern.  This  was  what  came,  he  told 
himself,  of  mixing  with  the  classes.  Manteufel 
was  right  on  one  point  at  any  rate  —  Neuberg  was 
a  fool ! 

A  little  later  in  the  day,  however,  he  discov- 
ered that  Eva's  prohibition  had  had  nothing  in- 
vidious in  it,  had  been  by  no  means  directed 
against  him,  but  was,  in  fact,  a  measure  of  which, 
in  the  circumstances,  he  could  not  but  approve. 
*  #  *  #  # 

Neuberg,  with  the  first  look  of  satisfaction  his 
face  had  worn  during  the  last  three  days,  showed 
Rochester  a  letter  when  they  met  that  evening 
before  supper. 

"  I  received  it,"  he  said,  "  a  few  minutes  ago.  I 
shall  sleep  to-night." 

Rochester  took  it ;  it  was  in  Eva's  vehement 
scrawl. 

"  Neuberg,"  it  ran,  "  you  are  a  fool  and  a  bore. 
If  you  come  knocking  at  my  lodging  any  more,  I 


Young  April  307 

shall  obtain  an  order  of  arrest  against  you  as  a 
public  nuisance.  Good  gracious  !  what  are  you 
made  of  ?  and  what  do  you  think  I  am  made  of  ? 
Yes,  sir,  that  is  the  question  :  What  do  you  think 
I  am  made  of?  Oh,  I  am  very  angry  !  How  dare 
you  !  But  never  mind  that  now.  Do  you  forget 
that  my  debut  at  the  opera  is  to-morrow  night, 
and  that,  with  all  these  agitations,  I  shall  have 
no  more  voice  than  a  raven?  Till  to-morrow 
night,  then,  I  close  my  doors  to  everyone  "  (this 
was  heavily  underlined),  "  but  you  may  come  and 
assist  at  my  triumph  if  you  like,  you  three,  and 
bring  bouquets  as  large  as  yourselves,  and  after- 
wards you  may  all  come  to  my  rooms  and  be  for- 
given. Tell  the  others ;  we  shall  have  one  more 
jolly  night,  at  least. 

"EVA." 

Rochester  read  and  folded  the  letter,  and  handed 
it  gravely  back.  Then  he,  too,  sighed  a  sigh  of 
relief. 

"I  can  tell  you  something,"  he  said  impor- 
tantly: "Sachs  went  three  times  to  Eva's  lodg- 
ings to-day,  was  refused  admittance  twice,  and 
the  last  time  left  a  letter.  He  was  as  yellow  as 
his  own  saddle-leather.  It  is  the  talk  of  the 
Court,  and  the  King " 

"And  His  Majesty?"  said  the  officer,  with  a 


308  Young  April 

look  that  at  once  seemed  to  forbid  and  invite  con- 
fidence. 

"  Well,  His  Majesty,  it  would  seem,  was  not  in 
the  best  of  humours." 

"  By  heavens,  Spencer  was  right !  "  cried  Neu- 
berg — "right  as  usual !  I  ought  to  have  known 
my  Eva  better.  What !  did  I  not  tell  you  she 
was  as  true  as  steel  ?  Fool  that  I  was  to  forget 
it  I" 


XXXI 

"  Avez-vous  vu  Diane,  au  summet  des  collines, 
Vous  qui  passez  dans  1'ombre,  etes  vous  des  am  ants  ?  " 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

THIS  was  an  April  night  that  wore  the  smile  of 
June.  Hardly  a  breath  stirred  the  young-leaved 
trees  ;  the  fields  of  heaven  bloomed  with  innu- 
merable stars,  and,  this  being  the  season  when  the 
fields  of  earth  first  send  forth  the  myriad  blossoms 
of  which  summer  robs  the  year,  the  breath  of  the 
whole  sleeping  world  was  as  sweet  as  that  of  a 
flower-garden. 

Young  Rochester  found  himself  wandering  in 
the  Palace  pleasure-grounds.  Neuberg,  in  his 
restless  passion,  had  been  poor  company  that  even- 
ing. Spencer,  according  to  an  almost  daily  cus- 
tom, was  dining  with  his  betrothed.  Thrown 
upon  his  own  resources,  drawn  by  the  cord  of 
love  which  becomes  of  such  irresistible  strength 
when  interwoven  with  the  strands  of  jealousy, 
the  boy  had  come  to  eat  out  his  heart  in  bitterness 
and  silence  upon  the  spot  where,  through  parted 

309 


3IO  Young  April 

curtains,  the  light  of  Madame  de  Lucena's  rooms 
streamed  forth,  amber,  into  the  night. 

Once  more  he  set  himself  the  vain  task  ;  again 
he  tried  to  solve  the  enigma  of  this  woman.  How 
had  she  come  to  contemplate  a  misalliance  —  she, 
descendant  of  so  proud  a  line?  If  she  had  suc- 
cumbed, heart  and  soul,  to  the  power  which  even 
he  unwillingly  and  unsympathizingly  felt  at  times 
so  strong,  if  it  were  that  she  loved  Spencer,  how 
came  it  then  that  she  could  gaze  upon  another 
with  such  mysterious  kindness  in  her  eyes  ?  How 
came  it  that  she  should  cloud  over  at  any  allusion 
to  her  forthcoming  marriage  ?  And  why  did  she 
allow  him,  Rochester,  to  look  at  her  as  he  had 
dared  to  look  —  to  say  to  her  what  he  had  at  last 
dared  to  say?  "Why  should  she  encourage  him 
to  come  to  her,  well  knowing  what  was  in  his 
heart  ? 

To-day,  when  he  had  kissed  her  hand  on  leav- 
ing, had  he  not  said,  "In  three  days  I  must  go 
back  to  England.  ...  It  will  be  like  going  from 
life  to  death,  to  leave  you  "  ?  And  had  she  not 
answered,  looking  at  him  wistfully  and  sighing, 
"  Back  to  England !  Would,  homing  swallow, 
that  you  could  take  me  on  your  wings  !  "  Why 
had  he  not  asked  her  then  what  she  had  meant  by 
that  sigh,  that  look,  those  words? 


Young  April  311 

"What  a  Duchess  she  would  have  made  I  thought 
the  boy.  With  such  a  star  by  his  side,  what 
an  entrance  for  the  new  Duke  of  Rochester  upon 
the  world  I  Past  and  future,  not  to  speak  of 
rapturous  present,  would  be  all  golden  in  such  a 
light.  And  between  him  and  this  vision  stood 
—  what?  Shabby,  eccentric,  unknown  Spencer, 
with  his  theories,  his  impulses,  his  pipe,  and  his 
babouches  !  .  .  .  The  incongruity  would  be  laugh- 
able were  it  not  tragic. 

So  Rochester  tramped  the  tender  sod,  gray  in 
the  starlight,  and  brushed  against  lilac-branches 
and  syringa,  each  waft  of  perfume  adding,  as  he 
inhaled  it,  a  poignancy  to  his  longings.  All  the 
world  so  beautiful,  the  spring  so  sweet,  and  he  not 
to  have  his  desire  ! 

The  long  window  of  the  Countess's  drawing- 
room  was  thrown  open,  and,  passing  through  the 
wide  shaft  of  light,  she  and  Spencer  came  forth 
upon  the  terrace.  The  Duke,  fearful  of  discovery 
before  the  Philosopher's  eyes,  withdrew  into  the 
shadow  of  a  bushy  arbour,  where  the  honeysuckle 
was  beginning  to  wind  its  perfumed  horns,  and 
there  stood  still  and,  with  a  fluttering  heart, 
listened. 

"  What  a  lovely  night !  "  said  Donna  Julia. 
Her  voice,  in  its  pretty,  precise  English,  fell  with 


312  Young  April 

the  most  absolute  harmony  on  the  universal  si- 
lence. "  Oh,  Spencer,  look  at  the  stars  !  " 

They  leant  over  the  marble  balustrade,  and 
Rochester  thought  that  Spencer  held  his  arm 
round  her  waist. 

" '  The  floor  of  Heaven 
Is  thick  inlaid  with  patines  of  pure  gold ; 
There's  not  the  smallest  orb  which  thou  beholdest, 
But  in  his  motion  like  an  angel  sings, 
Still  choiring  to  the  young-eyed  cherubim.'  " 

This  came  in  Spencer's  voice,  vibrating  with  that 
tenderness  which  none  but  the  woman  loved  has 
the  power  to  evoke  in  a  man  —  which  none  other 
has  the  right  to  listen  to.  "  Yes,  the  heavens  are 
beautiful,  Julia,  and  many  times  have  I  spent  the 
hours  of  the  night  in  watching  the  gathering  and 
waning  of  those  stars,  until  each  flame  from  the 
depth  of  unknown  space  assumed  a  separate  mean- 
ing, an  individual  expression,  and  uplifted  me  in 
such  close  communing,  that  what  Shakespeare 
calls  the  '  muddy  vesture  of  decay  '  seemed  to  fall 
away,  and  I  dreamed  I  heard  the  music  of  the 
spheres.  But  to-night,  to-night,  my  heaven  lies 
closer  to  me !  The  stars  never  have  discoursed 
such  harmony  to  me  as  your  lips,  and  I  do  not 
envy  the  young-eyed  Cherubim,  when  I  may 


Young  April  313 

gather  all  the  music  of  Paradise  into  my  soul 
thus." 

As  he  spoke  there  fell  a  long  silence,  and  then 
her  voice  rose  again  : 

"  And  is  it  so,  really,  my  Philosopher  ?  Have 
I  given  you  heaven  for  a  moment  —  even  for  a 
moment  the  realization  of  your  dreams?" 

"  More  !  "  cried  the  man,  in  a  tone  that  passion 
had  altered  beyond  recognition.  "A  thousand 
times  more  !  I  never  dreamt  such  happiness  as 
this  I  " 

"  Oh,  then,"  she  said,  and  her  voice  shook,  "  as 
you  are  a  wise  man,  be  content  with  the  thing  of 
perfection  and  do  not  ask  the  impossible." 

"  What  is  the  impossible  ?  "  said  he  wonderingly. 

"  It  is,"  said  she,  and  hesitated,  "  to  press  the 
vine,  and  yet  think  to  keep  the  bloom  on  the 
grape.  It  is  to  try  and  bind  an  April  hour,  to 
gather  the  flower  and  yet  want  to  harvest  the 
fruit.  Oh,  Spencer,  let  us  be  wise ;  let  us  only 
take  of  life  what  it  can  give  beautifully  !  " 

"  I  ask  of  life  but  one  thing,"  he  interrupted, 
"  and  that  is  you.  And,  having  you,  I  shall  have 
the  very  centre  and  treasure  of  life's  beauty." 

"And  what  of  age?"  she  said;  "and  what  of 
sickness,  and  temper,  and  fatigue?  And  what  of 
the  dreariness  of  habit " 


314  Young  April 

"  Blasphemy !  "  interrupted  he  fiercely,  and 
caught  her  in  his  arms. 

It  was  with  a  little  sigh  that  she  spoke  again  : 

"Why  then,  most  unphilosophic  Philosopher, 
good-night ! " 

"  Good-night,"  he  answered,  and  left  her,  and 
then  came  back,  running  to  bid  her  good-night 
again. 

Rochester  heard  his  footsteps  die  away  in 
the  distance,  and  knew  that  the  Countess  re- 
mained leaning  against  the  balustrade  and  that 
she  was  gazing  into  the  night.  He  heard  her 
sigh  several  times  as  though  she  felt  oppressed. 
But  he  had  no  wish  to  seek  her  out,  separated 
from  him  as  she  seemed  by  Spencer's  kisses.  His 
heart  was  so  heavy  within  him  and  so  sore  withal, 
that  he  cast  himself  full  length  upon  the  bench, 
like  one  over-weighted  with  the  burden  of  life, 
and  there  lay  staring  upwards  at  the  sapphire  vault; 
the  message  of  the  stars  to  him  brought  no  peace. 
#  #  *  #  # 

Now  and  again  a  breath  of  the  breeze,  like  a 
faint  sigh  from  the  sleeping  earth,  shivered  among 
the  branches  around  him.  Some  of  last  year's 
leaves  snapped  on  their  dry  stems ;  a  bird  piped 
in  its  sleep.  These  were  the  sounds  of  silence, 
and  the  silence  brooded  over  Rochester  for  what 


Young  April  315 

seemed  a  long  time.  Then  the  blank  page  of  this 
night's  stillness  was  marked  by  the  print  of  steps, 
steps  that  fell  lightly  as  last  year's  leaves ;  the  air 
trembled  to  a  rustle  of  robes  no  louder  than  the 
whisper  of  the  breeze,  and  the  youth  felt  in  every 
fibre  of  his  being  that  she  was  approaching. 
Down  the  steps  he  heard  her  come,  and  across 
the  sward,  and  there  pace  to  and  fro  slowly, 
lithely,  restlessly,  breaking  now  a  bough  of 
syringa,  now  a  spire  of  lilac;  and  he  heard  her 
beat  the  flowers  softly  against  her  bare  palm,  as 
one  in  deep  reflection.  Then,  all  at  once,  the 
rustling  drew  nearer  to  his  arbour ;  there  was  a 
pause ;  the  dry  honeysuckle  branches  snapped  as 
she  pulled  them  aside,  and  the  bush  at  his  head 
shook  with  a  gust  of  sweetness.  The  boy  held 
his  breath;  his  heart  almost  stopped  beating. 
He  felt  that  she  was  standing  close  by  him,  look- 
ing down ;  but  in  the  conflict  of  emotions,  not 
daring  to  rise  and  speak  to  her,  afraid  to  appear 
in  her  eyes  as  eavesdropper  and  spy,  he  knew  not 
what  better  cloak  to  assume  whereby  to  hide  his 
confusion  than  the  feint  of  sleep. 

Like  a  scented  cloud,  she  came  between  him 
and  the  stars.  Through  his  closed  lids  he  felt 
her  eyes  upon  him,  felt  upon  his  cheek  the  ap- 
proach of  her  light  breath. 


316  Young  April 

Had  he  really  been  asleep  he  could  not  have 
been  more  held  —  more  held  in  every  sense,  more 
helpless  to  the  sport  of  fantasy.  Had  life  de- 
pended on  it  he  would  not  have  stirred  ;  had  that 
bending  figure  threatened  death  he  would  have 
taken  it  without  a  sigh. 

How  long  she  remained  thus  poised  over  him 
he  could  not  measure,  but  the  spell  was  broken 
at  last  by  a  joy,  by  a  pain  too  exquisite,  it  seemed, 
for  mortal  to  endure.  For  an  instant  against  his 
heart  he  felt  her  bosom  lie,  upon  his  forehead  the 
pressure  of  her  lips. 

Light  and  darkness,  heaven  and  earth,  swam  in 
chaos  before  his  brain.  When  he  came  to  himself 
and  staggered  to  his  feet,  wildly  calling,  "  Diana, 
my  goddess !  "  nothing  answered  him  but  the  sigh 
of  the  night,  the  trembling  of  the  honeysuckle 

leaves. 

***** 

As  she  stepped  once  more  into  the  yellow  light 
of  her  room  there  was  a  tender,  amused  smile  on 
Donna  Julia's  lips. 

"  Poor  child !  At  least  there  is  another  who 
has  had  one  perfect  moment !  " 


XXXII 

"  Boot,  saddle,  to  horse,  and  away ! " 

BROWNING. 

SUMMONED  at  sunrise  to  attend  the  King  on  one 
of  his  erratic  descents  upon  the  garrison  of  a 
neighbouring  town,  Neuberg  was  destined  to 
pass  the  whole  of  the  next  day  in  the  saddle. 

They  rode  hard  all  through  the  bluster  of  a 
spring  morning,  broke  fast  on  horseback,  reviewed 
cavalry,  inspected  new  fortifications,  cast  a  whole 
population  into  excitement;  thence  departing, 
they  left  a  scene  of  general  discomfort  behind, 
for  the  King  was  more  lavish  of  blame  than 
praise,  and  seldom  found  matters  on  a  par  with 
his  constantly  varying  standards. 

They  mounted  fresh  horses  and  covered  several 
further  leagues  of  road,  to  surprise  in  its  turn  a 
camp  of  exercise  on  the  plains.  And,  in  a  little 
deluge  of  rain,  the  indefatigable  Sovereign  ex- 
amined muskets  and  tested  the  progress  of  re- 
cruits, while  an  unfortunate  instructor  perspired 
himself  wetter  than  even  the  weather  could  make 
317 


3i8  Young  April 

him,  roared  himself  hoarse,  and  finally,  whilst 
attempting  a  new  manoeuvre  (of  His  Majesty's 
own  device),  clubbed  his  immature  battalion 
into  inextricably  hard  knots. 

Neuberg  and  the  other  Equerry  looked  on  with 
seasoned  philosophy  and  resignation.  Both  were 
thoroughly  accustomed  to  the  King's  periodical 
outbursts  of  energy,  when  it  seemed  as  if  the  very 
air  he  moved  in  was  charged  with  electricity, 
when  no  detail  was  too  small,  no  matter  too  pri- 
vate, for  his  searching  investigation,  for  his  auto- 
cratic interference. 

To-day  the  King's  restlessness  had  taken  a 
military  bend.  To-morrow  it  might  take  a  munic- 
ipal turn.  Once  they  had  known  him  make  a 
surprise-tour  through  the  ladies'  boarding-schools 
of  his  kingdom.  Great  indeed  had  been  the 
flutter  thereof :  a  memorable  event  to  the  "  future 
mothers  of  his  people "  —  as  His  Majesty  had 
addressed  them  —  who  had  had  rare  occasions  to 
exchange  ogles  with  the  young  officers  of  his 
suite,  and  among  whom  the  talk  of  moustaches 
and  uniforms  had  not  yet  subsided. 

But  when,  after  a  dismal  meal  in  a  sodden  tent, 
Count  Neuberg  was  ordered  by  his  Royal  master 
forthwith  to  select  a  third  mount  for  himself  from 
the  camp  stables,  and  to  convey  to  the  Forest 


Young  April  319 

Master  on  the  distant  Geisberg  his  Royal  inten- 
tion of  reviewing  the  Foresters  on  the  morrow 
at  noon,  it  required  all  the  Equerry's  sense  of 
discipline  to  keep  him  from  openly  showing  his 
disgust. 

The  distance  was  great ;  the  mountain-roads  at 
this  time  of  year  execrable  for  travelling ;  the  sun 
was  already  past  its  meridian,  and  he  had  jogged 
since  dawn  ;  he  had  been  wet  through  twice  ;  but 
all  this  was  nothing  in  comparison  with  the  fact 
that  it  would  be  almost  beyond  human  power  for 
him  to  be  back  at  the  Capital  in  time  for  Eva's 
debut  that  evening  at  the  Opera. 

As  a  thundercloud  gathered  on  his  brow,  that 
which  had  been  so  portentous  all  day  on  the 
King's  seemed  to  clear  away. 

"  You  will  consider  yourself,"  said  His  Majesty 
graciously,  fortifying  himself  with  a  glass  of  raw 
spirits  against  the  long  homeward  ride  —  "  you 
will  consider  yourself  relieved  from  all  further 
duties  to-day  and  to-morrow,  Count  Neuberg." 

The  officer  saluted  with  a  scathing  internal 
irony,  and  started  for  the  stable-huts  in  a  black 
fit  of  fury.  He  found  a  beast  that,  if  it  showed 
proof  of  a  vast  amount  of  bone,  seemed  also  to 
vouchsafe  the  possession  of  a  little  blood,  and 
consequently  of  some  staying-power.  As  they 


320  Young  April 

trotted  out  of  the  camp  at  the  moderate  rate  of 
the  good  rider  who  means  to  use  his  steed  to  the 
utmost,  the  sun  suddenly  broke  gloriously  over 
the  drenched  world. 

Neuberg  felt  instinctively  that  the  poor  brute 
he  bestrode  carried  a  mettled  heart.  He  leant 
over  and  patted  his  neck. 

"Between  us,"  said  he,  "we  may  do  it  yet." 
***** 

It  was  full  dark  before  the  tired  rider  saw  from 
the  brow  of  the  nearest  hill  the  distant  gleam  of 
the  Capital.  The  charger  had  carried  him  gal- 
lantly, but  the  soft-hearted  Neuberg,  eagerly  as 
his  impatience  pushed  him,  now  forbore  to  spur 
the  exhausted  animal ;  so  it  was  at  a  foot-pace 
that  they  re-entered  the  town. 

He  would  be  just  in  time,  after  all,  if  he  went 
straight  to  the  Opera  House.  There  he  could 
hide  at  the  back  of  the  stage-box  where  Spencer 
and  Rochester  would  be  awaiting  him.  Mud- 
stained  he  was  up  to  the  eyes,  disordered,  soiled 
with  sweat  and  foam,  reeking  of  steed  and  saddle  ; 
but  he  would  not  lose  one  note  of  the  nightin- 
gale's voice,  one  look  of  the  dear  eyes,  one  move- 
ment of  the  illumined  figure.  Above  all,  he  would 
be  there  to  protect  her  with  his  presence  ;  he  felt 
that  she  had  come  to  rely  upon  him  more  than 


Young  April  321 

she  herself  would  admit.  He  could  not  shelter 
her  from  unhallowed  criticism  nor  from  admira- 
tion that  was  more  unhallowed  still,  but  he  could 
and  would  stand  between  her  and  insult,  whether 
it  came  from  high  or  low. 

The  ordinary  type  of  man  enamoured  of  an 
actress  loves  the  actress  before  the  woman  ;  he 
has  been  first  led  to  admire  and  desire  chiefly 
because  so  many  others  admire  and  desire.  He 
revels  in  her  celebrity,  triumphs  in  her  public 
triumph  ;  the  more  she  gives  herself  to  the  world, 
the  prouder  is  he.  But  Neuberg  loved  the  woman, 
and  although  in  his  simple  way  he  was  glad  each 
time  he  saw  her  gladness  (and  to  carry  the  world 
before  her  by  the  power  of  her  gift  had  become  a 
necessary  part  of  Eva's  existence),  it  had  long 
been  his  dream  to  wean  her  by  degrees  from  the 
perilous  joys  of  stage  life,  so  that  he  might  keep 
her  some  day  for  himself  alone. 

As  he  now  rode  slowly  through  the  streets, 
heedless  of  the  curiosity  that  he  and  his  steed 
excited  —  eloquent  as  their  appearance  was  of 
long  and  hasty  travel  —  glowing  visions  of  the 
warm,  brilliant  theatre,  with  Eva's  loveliness  as 
its  central  point,  floated  many-coloured  before  his 
tired  eyes,  with  now  and  again  a  dearer  vision  of 
a  homely  Eva  by  a  quiet  hearth  ! 


322  Young  April 

At  the  corner  of  the  great  square  he  dismounted 
and  hailed  a  passing  trooper  and  gave  the  horse 
into  his  charge,  with  orders  to  conduct  it  to  the 
Palace  stables  and  see  it  especially  well  attended 
to.  Then,  glad  to  be  free  of  his  encumbrance, 
whose  faltering  paces  had  in  the  end  been  a  sore 
trial  to  the  lover's  impatience,  he  set  off  as  speedily 
as  his  own  stiffened  limbs  would  allow  him  towards 
the  Opera  square. 

Turning  the  corner,  his  eyes  instinctively  sought 
for  the  illuminated  facade  of  the  theatre.  But 
vast  was  his  surprise  and  alarm  to  perceive  but  the 
beam  of  a  lamp,  shining  low  and  solitary,  out 
of  the  great  black  front.  With  a  haste  fear- 
borrowed,  he  pushed  onward,  knocked  against  the 
little  strolling  groups  that  moved  away  from  the 
theatre,  and  caught  guttural  exclamations  of  dis- 
gust and  loud  complaints  as  he  passed. 

"  These  singers,"  growled  a  fat  burgher,  rolling 
by,  "one  never  knows  what  is  the  matter  with 
them." 

Neuberg's  heart  beat  to  suffocation.  He  thrust 
his  way  roughly  through  the  little  crowd  which 
was  still  conning  a  placard  pasted  on  the  closed 
door  of  the  theatre.  All  gave  way  before  his 
uniform. 

Still  wet  from  the  printing  press,  the  sheet  pro- 


Young  April  323 

claimed  in  gigantic  black  letters  that,  owing  to 
the  sudden  indisposition  of  the  Signora  Eva  Vis- 
conti,  the  performance  announced  for  that  night 
could  not  take  place. 

The  sudden  indisposition  of  Signora  Eva  Vis- 
conti !  Somehow  the  words  failed  to  convey 
conviction,  hardly  meaning.  The  blood  buzzed 
in  his  veins ;  curvetting  black  letters  danced 
before  his  eyes ;  he  could  not  have  said  what 
wild  conjectures  were  trying  to  form  themselves 
amid  the  chaos  of  his  mind. 

Presently  a  running  figure  darted  through  the 
desultory  groups  in  the  square,  straight  as  an 
arrow  towards  him  ;  and,  panting,  his  eye  aflame, 
stood  the  Duke  of  Rochester,  looking  at  his 
friend. 

"  Neuberg  !  "  cried  he  breathlessly,  paused  as  if 
to  seek  for  words,  then  blurted  out :  "  I  do  not 
know  where  Eva  is  !  " 

Neuberg  had  seen  the  young  Englishman  under 
the  stress  of  many  different  emotions,  but  he  had 
never  yet  seen  him  completely  denuded  as  now  of 
all  his  native  reserve.  A  dire  sense  of  apprehen- 
sion seized  upon  his  own  soul  at  sight  of  the  lad's 
white  heat  of  excitement ;  he  turned  purple  and 
then  livid,  and  then,  to  his  own  astonishment, 
found  himself  of  a  sudden  exceedingly  calm. 


324  Young  April 

"  You  have  been  to  her  room,  then  ?  " 
"I  will  tell  you  everything,"  cried  Rochester, 
seized  the  officer's  arm,  and  poured  forth  a  rapid, 
disconnected  narrative,  while  Neuberg,  motion- 
less, listened.  "  I  spent  the  afternoon  at  the  Pal- 
ace. The  air  was  full  of  rumour  and  excitement; 
the  King  was  in  one  of  his  rampant  moods,  that 
fool  Manteufel  said,  and  there  was  no  knowing 
what  would  happen.  I  left  the  Countess  at  four 
o'clock  and  went  to  see  Spencer.  Could  not  find 
him;  there  was  no  one  in  his  rooms.  I  left  a 
note  saying  you  had  not  returned  yet,  but  that  I 
would  meet  him  at  the  Opera.  On  my  way  back 
to  our  house,  as  I  passed  the  Palace,  I  saw  that 
damned  Sachs  riding  off  like  fury.  Then  I  went 
home.  There  I  found  that,  meanwhile,  Spencer 
had  called  and  left  word  that  he  was  dining  with 
the  Countess,  but  would  meet  us  at  the  theatre. 
I  dressed  and  got  our  flowers,  and  soon  after 
seven  went  to  the  theatre.  They  were  lighting 
up,  and  the  first  thing  I  see  is  a  man  putting  up 
that  placard.  Of  course,  I  made  for  Eva's  house, 
running  like  a  hare.  The  door  was  open,  the 
maid,  the  landlady,  and  two  or  three  friends  were 
all  gossiping  together.  I  asked  for  her ;  they 
told  me  she  was  not  in.  She  had  received  a  let- 
ter in  the  afternoon,  brought  by  Herr  von  Sachs, 


Young  April  325 

upon  reading  which  (they  said)  she  appeared 
much  disturbed,  though  she  had  at  once  sat  down 
and  answered  it ;  after  which  she  had  locked  her- 
self in  -her  room,  scolded  the  maid  when  she  went 
to  knock ;  and  the  maid  had  heard  her  walking 
up  and  down,  and  talking  to  herself,  and  knock- 
ing the  furniture  about,  and  sometimes  crying 
and  sobbing.  At  last  she  suddenly  came  out, 
wrapped  up  in  her  pelisse  and  thickly  veiled. 
She  ordered  a  hackney-coach  and  drove  away, 
taking  the  turn  up  by  the  Palace.  As  soon 
as  I  heard  this  I  ran  back  to  the  Palace,  and 

there "  He  stopped,  as  if  the  words  choked 

him. 

"  And  there  ?  "  repeated  Neuberg,  who  laid  an 
icy  hand  on  his. 

"  And  there  I  learnt  that  the  King,  hearing  on 
his  return  that  the  performance  at  the  Opera 
would  not  take  place,  had  immediately  left  the 
town.  He  has  gone  to  his  hunting-box." 

"To  his  hunting-box?"  echoed  Neuberg. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Duke  harshly,  "  to  his  hunting- 
box,  because  to-morrow  night  he  inspects  the  For- 
esters. Do  you  understand  ?  Neuberg,  wake  up, 
man  !  It  is  only  eight  o'clock." 

Neuberg  roused  himself  from  his  thoughts  and 
dashed  the  sweat  from  his  forehead. 


326  Young  April 

"Eight  o'clock,"  he  repeated.  "And  at  what 
hour  did  you  say  Eva  left  her  house  ?  " 

"  It  could  not,"  said  the  Duke,  "  be  more  than 
half  an  hour  ago.  The  bells  had  rung  the  half- 
hour  before  I  reached  her  door,  and  they  told  me 
she  had  not  been  gone  five  minutes." 

"Eight  o'clock,"  said  Neuberg  again.  He 
reckoned  rapidly.  "  By  carriage  road,  two  hours 
to  the  Geisberg ;  on  a  good  horse,  by  the  paths, 
an  hour."  He  took  two  or  three  running  steps 
out  of  the  shelter  of  the  Arcade  into  the  square, 
which  was  now  quite  empty.  Then  he  stopped. 

"Where  is  Spencer?"  he  asked.  Then,  with 
an  accent  of  deep  bitterness  :  "  Ah,  true,  with  his 
Countess  !  Well,  then,  I  will  go  alone." 

"  Only  get  me  a  mount,"  cried  Rochester,  pant- 
ing at  his  elbow,  "and  you  shall  not  go  alone." 


XXXIII 

"  Sabine  un  jour 
A  tout  vendu  —  sa  beaute  de  colombe 

Et  son  amour ! 
Pour  le  collier  du  Comte  de  Saldagne, 

Pour  un  bijou  .  .  .  ! 
Le  vent  qui  vient  a  travers  la  montagne 
Me  rendra  f ou  1 " 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

ONCE  clear  of  the  town,  Neuberg  set  spurs  to 
his  horse  and  rode  as  for  a  race,  Rochester  after 
him.  They  covered  four  or  five  miles  of  open 
road  without  drawing  rein. 

The  night  was  sharp  after  the  wet  day,  but 
the  sky  had  cleared  and  the  fine  decrescent  moon 
sailed  on  a  sea  of  iridescent  cloudlets.  They  ex- 
changed no  word  as  they  went.  The  rhythm  of 
their  mad  progress,  which  seemed  to  gather  speed 
from  its  own  speed,  to  double  and  treble  itself  as 
they  advanced ;  the  snorts  of  the  driven  horses  ; 
the  pumping  of  saddle  and  girth  ;  the  soughing 
of  the  night  air  in  their  ears  ;  the  occasional 
clink  of  the  soldier's  scabbard  on  his  stirrup-iron 
327 


328  Young  April 

—  these  were  the  only  sounds  about  them,  and 
they  rather  blended  in  with,  than  broke  upon, 
the  silent  tumult  of  their  thoughts. 

Presently  giant  silhouettes  of  trees  flew  past 
them  from  the  level  hedgerow  on  either  side  : 
they  were  approaching  the  forest.  The  air  grew 
heavy  with  the  breath  of  the  sleeping  woods  at 
night.  Then  the  road  before  them  was  swallowed 
in  darkness  into  which  they  plunged,  and  they  felt 
themselves  gathered  up  into  a  whispering  mystery 
of  trees. 

From  out  of  the  solitude  of  the  plain,  it  was 
like  passing  into  a  vast  company.  Shady  forms 
clustered  round  them  in  myriads,  and  ever  more 
and  more — hands  outstretched  to  arrest  or  to 
speed,  gesticulating,  warning,  encouraging  —  a 
mighty  host,  all  closing  in  upon  them,  all  eager, 
all  friendly. 

Suddenly  Neuberg,  always  the  foremost  rider, 
in  spite  of  the  Duke's  lighter  weight  and  brave 
heart,  called  briefly  to  his  companion.  They 
wheeled  to  the  right  and,  perforce  at  a  soberer 
pace,  the  two  riders,  now  knee  to  knee,  pressed 
along  a  side-path  where  the  sympathetic  beeches 
crowded  closer  than  ever  and  the  underwood 
clutched  at  them  with  thousands  of  fingers  as 
they  passed. 


Young  April  329 

It  was  so  dark  in  this  forest  cutting  that 
horse  and  man  felt  rather  than  saw  their  way. 
With  startled  cry  the  birds,  roused  from  sleep, 
flew  whirring  from  their  path.  The  road  had 
grown  very  steep.  The  patient  horses  slipped 
and  strained,  but  Neuberg's  determination  carried 
him  and  his  comrade  relentlessly  and  safely  on. 
The  soft  earth  sucked  at  the  hoofs  ;  a  little  stream 
tinkled  somewhere  over  its  stony  course  far  below 
them  ;  the  smell  of  last  year's  leaves  and  of  this 
year's  pushing  growth,  mingled  and  crushed  into 
poignancy  beneath  their  tread,  rose  to  their 
nostrils.  Here,  in  the  heart  of  the  thicket,  the 
ruffling  spring  winds  high  in  the  treetops  mur- 
mured for  miles  around  them  with  a  voice  like 
the  roar  of  the  sea  on  the  beach,  but  without 
once  striking  their  faces.  Ever  and  anon  they 
came  into  spaces  bald  and  gray  in  the  faint 
moonlight,  where  a  stray  rabbit  shot  like  a  fly- 
ing ball  from  their  approach. 

The  way  grew  again  steeper  ;  the  forms  of  the 
trees  changed  ;  the  soil  grew  harder,  more  stony, 
interspersed  with  tufts  of  heather  and  clumps 
where  the  dead  bracken  overlay  the  young  shoots. 
The  damp  earthy  smell  of  the  lower  woods  was 
blown  away  by  a  keen,  clean  wind  which  bore  on 
its  wings  resinous  aroma  of  pine  and  larch. 


330  Young  April 

"See,"  said  Neuberg,  halting  at  the  entrance 
of  one  of  these  open  spaces  and  pointing  to  the 
heights,  "there  is  the  Geisberg." 

Above  the  black  belt  of  pines  the  white  face 
of  the  hunting-box  shone  mistily  forth.  Little 
yellow  dots  of  light,  some  moving,  some  station- 
ary, glimmered  upon  it. 

Rochester  heard  his  friend  draw  a  breath  that 
ran  hissing  through  his  set  teeth  ;  and  his  heart, 
seething  with  many  conflicting  emotions,  felt 
loyally  sore  for  that  rending  grief. 

His  own  personality,  hitherto  the  only  impor- 
tant thing  in  the  life  of  Edward  Warrender, 
seemed  to  have  become  completely  merged  for 
the  moment  into  the  larger  interest  around  him. 
His  first  thought  at  the  news  of  Eva's  defection 
had  been  for  Neuberg.  He  had  permitted  his 
friend  to  take  the  lead  in  everything  to-night, 
had  followed  him  on  this  wild  ride,  submitted 
with  all  patience  to  be  splashed  with  mud, 
struck  with  flying  gravel  at  his  horse's  tail, 
lashed  by  the  rebound  of  twig  and  branchlet. 
Now,  as  Neuberg  again  set  spurs  to  his  horse 
and  urged  it  upon  the  steep  aspiring  path,  the 
Duke  again  submitted  unquestioningly. 

They  were  half-way  across  the  clearing  when 
the  officer  once  more  abruptly  drew  rein  and  once 
more  pointed  upwards. 


Young  April  331 

*'  Look  I "  said  he,  and  in  the  dim  moonlight 
there  seemed  to  be  a  bitter  smile  upon  his  lip. 

Rochester  turned,  after  a  startled  glance  of 
inquiry,  to  follow  the  direction  of  the  extended 
arm,  and  between  the  black  plumes  of  pines  saw, 
fluttering  in  and  out,  a  rapidly  moving  light. 

As  they  stood  in  strained  stillness,  the  rushing 
tide  of  wind  brought  to  their  ears  the  distant 
beat  of  hoofs  and  a  rumble  of  wheels  on  the  rocky 
road.  The  eyes  of  the  two  men  met  and  the 
Duke  knew  that  all  hope  of  intercepting  Eva 
before  she  reached  the  hunting-box  had  failed. 

"  Shall  we  go  back  ?  "  said  he  at  last  hoarsely. 

"  Back  !  "  replied  Neuberg.  "  No  I  thousand 
devils,  on  I " 


XXXIV 

"  See  how  she  comes,  apparelled  like  the  spring, 
Graces  her  subjects,  and  her  thoughts  the  King. 

***** 
Her  face  the  book  of  praises,  where  is  read 
Nothing  but  curious  pleasures." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

WITHIN  a  hundred  yards  of  the  spot  where  the 
cross-path  through  the  pine-woods  opened  out  on 
the  highroad,  almost  within  a  gunshot  of  the 
Royal  Lodge  itself,  Neuberg  drew  rein  and  dis- 
mounted, briefly  bidding  his  comrade  do  the  same. 

"There  is  an  old  shed  to  the  right  where  we 
can  tether  the  beasts,"  said  he.  "Follow  me." 

They  led  their  horses  to  the  shelter  in  question. 
It  stood  in  a  small  glade  upon  the  level  ground 
which  they  had  now  reached. 

Characteristically,  Neuberg  paused  to  loosen 
bridle  and  saddle  and  to  throw  his  own  cloak 
over  the  animal's  loins.  The  Duke  noted  and 
copied  every  action  of  his  friend.  Then  they 
sallied  forth  once  more,  the  Duke  for  guidance 
laying  his  hand  lightly  on  the  other's  sleeve. 

As  they  emerged  from  the  black  shelter  of  the 
332 


Young  April  333 

wood  upon  the  broad,  bare  road,  and  beheld  the 
Lodge  rear  its  white  blank  face  before  them,  a 
carriage  approached  from  the  rear  of  the  house 
and  swept  across  the  main  entrance,  passing  the 
two  young  men  so  closely  that  the  emptiness  of 
the  vehicle  as  well  as  the  livery  of  the  servants 
on  the  box  became  plainly  visible  to  them.  It 
clattered  through  the  open  archway  into  the 
stable-yard,  unchallenged  by  the  Forester  who 
stood  sentinel  beside  it. 

Neuberg  caught  the  Duke's  hand,  holding  it 
for  a  second  in  his  with  a  fierce  clutch. 

"  Sachs's  carriage,"  said  he,  "  coming  from  the 
private  entrance  !  " 

They  went  forward  into  the  moonlight,  Neuberg 
marching  on  again  with  determined  tread ;  then 
the  discreet  silence  of  the  house,  emphasized  by 
the  four  or  five  winking  yellow  windows,  the  sense 
of  the  utter  futility  of  the  errand,  its  danger  and 
uncertainty,  together  with  his  absolute  ignorance 
of  Neuberg's  purpose,  began  to  weigh  heavily 
upon  the  Duke's  spirits.  He  had  the  English- 
man's inborn  horror  of  emotional  scenes,  the 
gentleman's  dislike  to  intrude  where  he  was  not 
wanted.  The  garment  of  his  chivalrous  purpose 
had  fallen  away  from  him ;  he  felt  naked,  foolish, 
and  unprotected. 


334  Young  April 

But  the  uncompromising,  illogical  splendour 
of  his  friend's  passion  made  him  ashamed  of 
venturing  upon  more  than  a  perfunctory  remon- 
strance. 

"  We  can  do  no  good,  old  fellow  :  what  use  in 
going  on  ?  " 

"  To  make  sure  —  to  see  —  to  have  the  proof  !  " 
said  the  other,  without  turning  his  head.  And 
Rochester,  without  another  word,  followed  again. 

The  Forester  sentry  called  a  rough  challenge, 
was  as  roughly  answered,  and  fell  back  astonished 
at  sight  of  the  familiar  face  and  uniform. 

Neuberg  clinked  up  the  steps,  shadowed  bravely 
by  the  Duke,  whose  discomfort  in  the  situation 
grew  every  second  more  intense,  and  who  cer- 
tainly wished  himself  a  hundred  miles  away  — 
were  it  even  back  with  Smiley ! 

At  the  main  door  they  were  again  challenged, 
and  again  recognition  of  the  Equerry  was  suffi- 
cient to  secure  to  them  a  free  access. 

The  entrance-hall  was  dimly  lit  and  almost 
empty.  Despite  the  vast  fire  roaring  in  the  stove, 
the  place  had  the  heavy  atmosphere  of  an  unin- 
habited house.  Skeleton  heads  beneath  gaunt 
white  antlers  looked  down  at  them  from  eyeless 
sockets  on  every  wall ;  boars'  masks,  scientifically 
stuffed,  sniffed  with  varnished,  yellow-tusked 


Young  April  335 

snouts  and  glared  through  their  bristles  with 
fierce  red-glass-eyes. 

Neuberg's  riding-boots  rang  terribly  loud,  so 
Rochester  thought,  on  the  polished  floors  as  he 
made  for  a  small  anteroom  on  the  left,  where,  by 
the  light  of  a  single  oil-lamp,  a  burly  gray-bearded 
man  in  green  uniform,  with  large  horn  spectacles 
on  his  nose,  sat  jotting  down  notes  in  a  leather- 
bound  book.  A  boar-hound  lay  at  his  feet. 

At  sight  of  the  new-comers  the  man  rose  and 
saluted  simply  enough,  but  his  eyes,  owl-like 
through  the  round  rims,  betrayed  the  same  sur- 
prise that  had  greeted  them  hitherto. 

"  Where  is  His  Majesty  ?  "  said  Neuberg  briefly. 

"His  Majesty  has  retired  to  his  private  apart- 
ment," said  the  Forester,  "with  orders  that  none 
but  Herr  von  Sachs  be  allowed  access  to  him. 
His  Majesty  is  about  to  sup,  and  alone.  Yet  I 
have  no  doubt,  Herr  Graf,  that  if  you  have  any 
special  information  to  give  him"  —  the  speaker's 
glance  here  travelled  wonderingly  over  the  dis- 
ordered mud-stained  figure  to  rest  upon  the 
face,  worn  and  lined  into  a  sudden  look  of  age  — 
"  he  would  at  once  order  your  admittance.  Shall 
I  seek  Herr  von  Sachs  ?  " 

"Do  not  trouble,  Forest  Master,"  answered 
Neuberg  with  extraordinary  coolness.  "I  see 


336  Young  April 

you  are  busy  with  your  schedule.  I  know  my 
way  about.  Where,  only  tell  me,  shall  I  find 
Herr  von  Sachs  ?  " 

The  Master  of  the  Horse  (the  other  made  an- 
swer) was  even  now,  he  believed,  supping  in  his 
own  apartment  —  the  room  known  as  the  Arch- 
duke's. 

Neuberg  nodded,  touched  his  cap,  and,  laying  a 
hand  on  Rochester's  shoulder,  marshalled  him  to 
an  inner  hall,  where  four  passages  divided  and  a 
great  staircase  rose  and  branched  apart.  All  was 
as  sparsely  lighted  as  the  rest  of  the  Lodge,  as 
perfectly  silent  and  as  deserted.  He  paused  a 
second  and  pointed  to  the  first  door  in  the  gal- 
lery above. 

"  The  Archduke's  rooms  are  beyond,"  said  he  ; 
"but  we  shall  not  disturb  Sachs's  supper  yet 
awhile.  Our  way  lies  here ; "  and  he  turned 
down  the  side  passage  as  he  spoke. 

They  passed  through  a  swing-door  and  emerged 
into  an  inner  corridor,  where,  from  the  gush  of  hot 
savoury  air,  the  distant  clatter  of  voices  and  dishes 
and  hurrying  steps,  Rochester  surmised  they  were 
near  the  kitchen  regions.  A  small  winding  stair- 
case rose  at  the  further  end.  Neuberg  advanced, 
and  his  heavy  foot  upon  the  creaking  wood  seemed 
to  awaken  alarming  echoes  in  the  unknown  vast 


Voting  April  337 

recesses  of  the  building.  After  a  steep  climb, 
they  were  confronted  by  another  swing-door, 
through  which,  out  of  all  but  obscurity,  they 
came  forth  into  comparative  brightness. 

It  was  a  gallery  of  handsome  proportions  which 
connected  the  two  wings  of  the  Lodge.  Just 
within  the  recess  formed  by  the  little  door  Neu- 
berg  paused  at  last  and  looked  from  one  side  to 
the  other,  head  bent  forward,  listening  acutely. 

Rochester,  too,  gazed  around  him  and  wondered. 
They  stood  about  half-way  in  a  long,  low-ceiled 
gallery. 

After  the  simplicity  of  the  arrangements  that 
had  met  his  eye  hitherto,  the  Royal  luxury  of  the 
present  surroundings  was  all  the  more  striking. 
Carpets  of  deepest  pile  and  richest  hue  lay  softly 
beneath  his  feet.  Upon  the  walls,  between  panels 
of  old  leather,  glowing  with  deep  and  gorgeous 
tints,  hung  pictures  of  hunting  scenes  in  Dutch 
frames,  Snyders  and  Brancas  and  others,  dingy, 
gory,  marvellous.  Bunches  of  white  lights  in 
rococo  bronze  chandeliers,  placed  on  marble  con- 
soles, threw  islets  of  gentle  radiance  at  set  inter- 
vals in  the  sea  of  mellow  duskiness.  At  each 
end  the  gallery  spread  into  a  landing,  immediately 
facing  which  was  a  doorway.  Both  these  doors 
were  closed. 


338  Young  April 

The  absolute  emptiness  and  silence  of  the  place, 
all  warmed,  decorated,  and  luminous  as  it  was, 
struck  the  Duke  as  singularly  sinister.  The  tem- 
ple of  the  hideous  god  to  whom  Eva  —  the  fresh, 
the  young,  the  laughter-loving,  spring-hearted 
Beau-Sourire  —  was  about,  in  her  folly,  to  yield 
herself  up  in  voluntary  sacrifice,  had  been  put 
into  festival  array. 

Here  was  about  to  be  enacted  a  crime,  and  all 
was  ready  for  the  deed.  It  was  worse  than 
murder !  For  himself,  he  knew,  no  less  than  for 
Neuberg,  that  after  this  night  Eva  would  cease 
to  exist,  except  in  memories  more  painful  than 
those  of  death  —  cease  to  exist  more  inevitably 
and  more  terribly  than  if  the  grave  had  closed 
upon  her. 

An  immense  pity  for  the  woman,  a  longing  to 
save  her  yet,  now  stirred  his  budding  manhood  to 
an  unknown  depth.  In  the  unsophisticated  chiv- 
alry of  youth  and  inexperience,  the  thought  that 
it  was  his  brother-man  that  was  about  to  do  this 
wrong  upon  the  weaker  vessel,  that  was  about  to 
brush  off  at  one  brutal  stroke  the  fresh  bloom 
that  made  her  most  beautiful  in  life,  drove  all  his 
former  considerations  —  all  his  considerations  of 
mere  common-sense  and  gentlemanly  discretion  — 
out  of  his  head. 


Young  April  339 

He  turned  to  Neuberg,  a  hot  torrent  of  impos- 
sible suggestion  trembling  upon  his  lips,  but  was 
arrested  by  a  glaring  eye.  At  that  moment  the 
door  on  the  right  was  opened  a  little  way,  just 
enough  to  emit  the  slim  black  figure  of  the 
King's  valet  as  it  glided  discreetly  away.  They 
could  hear  the  subdued  thud-thud  of  his  feet 
upon  the  great  stairs  beyond. 

A  moment  later  the  same  door  was  again  opened, 
flung  widely  back  upon  its  hinges,  and  the  King 
himself  stood  upon  the  threshold,  his  square 
shoulders  outlined  against  the  background  of 
rosy  brilliance  within.  There  was  a  glint  of  dia- 
monds among  the  lace  ruffles  upon  his  great  chest, 
a  sheen  of  close-drawn  silk  upon  the  calves  of  his 
muscular  legs,  planted  apart,  as  he  stood  in  an 
attitude  of  triumphant  expectancy,  gazing  down 
the  length  of  the  passage  towards  the  still  closed 
door  on  the  opposite  side. 

The  two  young  men  unconsciously  —  for  the 
habit  of  deference  at  Court  is  one  more  easily 
acquired  than  laid  aside  —  had,  by  a  common 
movement,  stepped  back  into  the  shadow  of  the 
doorway. 

After  a  second  or  two,  the  King  slowly  turned 
on  his  heel  and  walked  back  into  the  room,  where 
he  was  lost  to  sight  behind  a  great  brocaded 


34O  Young  April 

screen.  The  door,  however,  he  left  open,  and  the 
rosy  glow  shone  out  into  the  gallery  like  a  signal 
light. 

With  clenched  fists,  breathlessly,  they  listened. 
There  was  no  sound  but  that  of  the  slow  monoto- 
nous tread,  dulled  within  the  velvet  recesses  of 
the  King's  room  on  the  right,  and  presently  the 
hummed  stanza  of  that  Italian  song  with  which 
Eva  had  seemed  to  challenge  the  Royal  attention 
upon  her  first  appearance  at  the  Court.  The 
steps  and  the  song  went  to  the  same  measure. 

Rochester  knew  that  Neuberg  was  trembling 
in  every  stalwart  limb.  Suddenly  from  out  of  the 
silence  upon  the  left  sprang  the  minutest  noise  — 
the  click  of  a  latch  leaving  the  lock,  then  the 
swing  of  an  easy  door.  Instantly  in  the  opposite 
room  the  tread  and  the  humming  ceased.  The 
whole  atmosphere  grew  oppressive  with  expect- 
ancy. Then  there  came,  as  it  were,  a  whisper  of 
movement,  the  glide  of  an  advance  without  sound 
of  footfall,  like  the  passage  of  the  wind  across  the 
meadow  grass,  or  the  rustle  of  the  serpent  upon 
the  rock.  Rochester  felt  his  companion  tower,  it 
seemed  to  him,  into  extraordinary  height  by  his 
side,  and — dull,  horrible,  uncanny  — he  distinctly 
heard  the  hard  laboured  beat  of  his  heart. 

With  as  simultaneous  an  impulse  as  that  with 


"IT  WAS  JULIA  DE  LUCENA!" 


Young  April  341 

which  they  had  stepped  back  out  of  sight,  they 
now  pressed  forward  from  their  concealment,  to 
stand  upon  the  passage  of  the  woman  whom  the 
King  expected. 

The  fall  of  her  little  sandalled  shoe  was  lost  in 
the  thick  carpet,  but  her  draperies  fretted  and 
murmured  at  every  undulating  movement.  In 
the  nimbus  of  her  hair  trembled  a  diamond  cres- 
cent ;  a  single  ruby  glowed  like  an  ember  in  her 
bosom,  and  round  her  waist  a  line  of  emeralds  ran 
like  a  circle  of  green  flame. 

It  was  Julia  de  Lucena ! 

Ah,  with  what  beauty  had  she  decked  herself ! 
In  the  faint  filmy  green  of  her  draperies,  she 
seemed  indeed,  as  Spencer  had  called  her,  a  thing 
of  fire  and  air. 

Yet  Julia  de  Lucena,  her  eyes  fixed  abstractedly 
on  the  rose-lighted  doorway  which  was  her  goal, 
did  not  seem  to  be  possessed  of  any  special  emo- 
tion. In  her  deliberate  indolent  gait  there  was 
none  of  the  tremulous  hesitation  of  a  woman's  first 
yielding,  nor  yet  the  eager  haste  of  a  happy  mis- 
tress who  glories  in  her  choice.  Serene  deliber- 
ateness,  queenly  indifference,  were  enthroned  upon 
her  face.  So  might  have  moved  and  looked  Selene 
herself,  bent  on  the  freak  of  some  earthly  love. 

But  when,  after  a  few  paces,  her  glance  fell  on 


342  Young  April 

the  intruders  standing  motionless  across  her  path, 
a  faint  look  of  haughty  wonder  swept  like  a  wave 
across  her  pensive  sweetness. 

Then  she  recognized  them  !  That  stalwart  man 
with  mud-encrusted  uniform,  with  the  riding- 
boots  discoloured  to  the  knee,  with  the  disordered 
hair,  the  convulsed  crimson  face  in  which  the 
fixed,  starting  eyeballs  stared  wide  —  that  was 
Count  Neuberg  —  Count  Neuberg,  Spencer's 
friend !  And  beside  him  that  slim  youth  in 
travel-soiled  evening  attire,  mud-bespattered  bro- 
cade, and  fine  kerseymere  that  clung  to  limbs  as 
delicate  as  Daphnis's  —  that  youth  whose  tossed 
red  curls  stood  off  from  a  face  petrified  into  a 
white  rigidity  of  horror,  with  eyes  cast  down  as 
if  in  shame — that  was  her  exquisite  young  adorer, 
the  fine  flower  of  English  Dukes  ! 

Were  the  gods  making  play  of  their  daughter? 
or  was  there,  after  all,  one  Avenger  above,  and 
was  this  His  overtaking  ?  Or  yet  was  her  world 
given  over  to  the  sport  of  devils  ? 

The  blood  ebbed  back  to  her  heart.  For  a 
second  —  for  the  fraction  of  a  second  —  she  felt 
her  knees  give  way  ;  she  thought  that  she  would 
fall,  and  all  the  energies  of  her  soul  went  up  in  a 
voiceless  cry  to  the  Something  that  ruled  her 
destiny  :  "  Let  me  walk  on  !  Let  me  walk  on  !  " 


Young  April  343 

The  forces  of  heart  and  nerve  answered  the 
rallying  call :  on  she  walked  in  silence,  holding 
herself  like  a  queen  on  .  the  way  to  her  throne. 
With  glance  unshrinking  she  met  Neuberg's 
dread  accusing  eyes ;  she  saw  the  face  of  Roches- 
ter, that  could  not  in  shame  look  upon  her  (oh, 
that  was  the  worse  !).  She  swept  over  the  stern 
unbending  figure  :  the  other  figure  seemed  as  if 
struck  with  death.  So  she  passed  on,  erect, 
deliberate,  scornful  —  passed  and  glided  into  the 
rosy  radiance,  and  quietly  closed  the  door  behind 
her. 


XXXV 

rt  My  particular  grief 
Is  of  so  flood-gate  and  o'erbearing  nature 
That  it  engluts  and  swallows  other  sorrows." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

ONCE  more  a  paralyzing  stillness  seemed  to  en- 
compass like  a  spell  the  solitary  house  on  the 
pine-clad  heights  —  a  stillness  which,  in  the 
wadded  luxury  where  they  stood,  was  to  the  two 
men,  not  the  blessed  quiet  of  repose,  but  the  evil, 
secret,  busy  stillness  of  treacherous  doings. 

A  trail  of  violet  scent  hung  upon  the  air  with 
mocking  sweetness. 

A  gust  of  wind  came  circling  round  the  walls 
like  a  mighty  sigh  and  exhaled  itself  into  silence 
again.  And  then,  as  from  a  great  distance  from 
behind  the  closed  door,  the  King's  voice  rose  into 
a  great  laugh  of  delight,  followed  by  the  clear 
note  of  the  woman's  voice,  high  and  delicate  as 
the  plaint  of  the  smitten  lute-string,  or  the  ring 
of  a  crystal  cup.  The  spell  was  broken  :  Neu- 
berg  and  Rochester,  who  had  been  staring,  etupe- 

344 


Young  April  345 

fied  and  unseeing,  into  each  other's  eyes,  now 
started  and  exchanged  a  look  of  awakening  specu- 
lation. 

Without  a  word  they  turned  out  of  the  gallery, 
let  fall  the  padded  door  behind  them,  and,  Neu- 
berg  leading  as  before,  they  passed  downstairs 
and  through  the  passage,  unmolested  as  they  had 
come.  Instead,  however,  of  making  his  way 
through  the  antechamber  into  the  hall,  the  officer 
turned  abruptly  off  into  a  side  passage  which  led 
to  a  back-door.  This  was  unlocked.  Key  and 
hinges  had  been  well  oiled,  for  it  opened  noise- 
lessly. 

A  moment  Neuberg  paused  outside;  the  door 
swung  back  upon  them  and  fell  into  its  lock 
without  a  sound;  then  he  gave  a  little  chuckle 
which,  in  his  young  friend's  ear,  sounded  hid- 
eously incongruous,  and  pointed  to  the  discreet 
little  path  winding  away  behind  high  shrubs,  and 
then  to  the  slender  footsteps  that  marked  the 
soft  ground  immediately  under  the  ray  of  a  dim 
lamp. 

"Morals  of  Courts,"  whispered  he  derisively: 
"  if  you  want  to  know  how  to  do  a  thing,  study 
the  King's  methods!  " 

He  caught  Rochester  by  the  arm  as  he  spoke, 
and  started  off  down  the  path  at  a  round  pace. 


346  Young  April 

The  Duke  felt  him  lurch  two  or  three  times  like 
a  drunken  man,  but  he  himself  walked  as  in  a 
dream. 

There  was  no  sentinel  at  the  garden  gate,  and 
in  safety  they  crossed  the  bare  open  space  where 
the  gravel  had  been  ploughed  into  deep  ruts 
by  the  carriage  of  the  King's  visitor,  and  they 
plunged  under  the  damp  black  canopy  of  the 
forest.  Here  Neuberg,  to  his  companion's  fur- 
ther surprise  and  immeasurable  disgust,  broke 
from  his  side  and  gave  way  to  a  series  of  incon- 
gruous, not  to  say  indecent,  expressions  of  joy. 
He  threw  up  his  hands  to  heaven,  he  stamped  on 
the  slippery  carpets  of  pine  needles,  he  gyrated  in 
minutest  circles. 

"  Oh,  Beau-Sourire,"  he  cried  in  ecstasy,  "  how 
could  I  have  thought  so  meanly  of  you!  Your 
beauty  was  not  made  to  be  bought  for  the  pastime 
of  a  King;  your  sweet  weight  could  never  press 
the  cushions  of  a  pander's  carriage;  your  proud 
foot  tread  the  stealthy  bypath  that  leads  to  a 
Royal  buen-retiro;  your  nightingale  voice  be  up- 
lifted in  such  a  cage  as  that  !  "  and  he  shook  his 
fist  at  the  Geisberg's  secret  white  face. 

Motionless  and  silent  stood  Rochester,  and  let 
this  flood  of  emotion  surge  against  him. 

"  Did  you  know,"  cried   Neuberg,  unrepelled, 


Young  April  347 

"  did  you  guess  that  there  was  death  in  my  soul 
when  I  entered  this  place  to-night?  that  there 
was  darkness  infinite  ?  that  there  was  hell  ?  But 
now,  now,  now,  I  am  as  one  risen  from  the 
grave:  life,  joyous  life,  runs  warm  in  these 
veins ! "  His  broad  chest  resounded  as  he 
thumped  it.  "  My  soul  swims  in  glorious  light ; 
the  peace  of  heaven  reigns  upon  all.  O  blessed 
moon,"  he  cried,  his  voice  swelling  as  he  apostro- 
phized the  faint  shaft  of  light  that  forced  its  way 
between  the  entwined  branches,  "  look  down  this 
night  upon  a  happy  man!  Rochester,  it  is  a  rare 
thing  in  this  world  to  see  a  happy  man.  You 
are  young,  my  friend:  it  will  be  something  for 
you  to  remember  in  the  years  to  come." 

He  laughed  wildly,  broke  into  a  savage  war- 
dance,  and  tripping  up  against  the  Englishman, 
clasped  him  with  a  bear-like  hug,  and,  in  the  im- 
potence of  tongue  or  limb  to  express  his  over- 
charged feelings,  burst  into  tears. 

With  a  strength  that  fury  alone  could  have 
given  him,  Rochester  roughly  disengaged  himself 
from  the  embrace  and  propelled  his  companion 
into  equilibrium  with  a  couple  of  sturdy  shoves. 
Nothing  could  have  been  more  distasteful  to  his 
sore  heart  than  Neuberg's  selfish  joy,  nothing 
more  grating  to  his  chivalrous  instincts,  nothing 


348  Young  April 

more  antipathetic  to  his  national  reserve,  than 
this  uncontrolled  display  of  emotion. 

"Oh,  devil  take  you!"  he  cried,  "you  and 
your  King  and  your  country!  A  pretty  lot  you 
all  are ! "  And  then  he  added  with  cutting  em- 
phasis: "I  shall  be  more  anxious,  I  assure  you, 
sir,  to  forget  than  to  remember  this  event." 

He  drew  out  his  handkerchief  and  began,  all  in 
the  dark,  to  wipe  his  hands  and  flick  at  his  clothes 
as  if  to  dispel  the  clinging  contamination  ;  and, 
racking  his  brain  the  while  for  something  that 
would  stir  the  object  of  his  irritation  to  the  deep- 
est, he  added  after  a  pause: 

"  And  do  you  expect  Mr.  Spencer,  your  friend, 
to  share  in  these  ecstasies  ?  You  will  at  least  be 
able  to  put  his  philosophy  to  the  test." 

Neuberg,  a  pace  apart,  still  laughing  hysteri- 
cally and  mopping  his  eyes,  was  struck  into 
sudden  silence.  The  mere  mention  of  Spencer's 
name  had  sobered  him  as  completely  as  if  some- 
one had  flung  a  bucket  of  cold  water  over  him. 

"  My  God ! "  he  cried  in  a  sort  of  whisper, 
"how  could  I  forget?  Oh,  my  poor  Michael, 
and  J  accused  you  of  selfishness  !  " 

He  stood  a  moment  breathing  heavily  in  the 
dark,  and  then  cried  roughly,  "  Come  !  "  and 
turned  on  his  heel. 


Young  April  349 

Not  another  word  was  exchanged  between 
them.  In  silence  they  groped  their  way  to  the 
shed ;  in  silence  led  forth  their  horses,  Rochester 
following  as  unquestioningly  as  before,  while 
Neuberg  this  time  made  for  the  road  some  hun- 
dred yards  beneath  the  plateau.  Here  they 
mounted,  and,  still  in  silence,  set  out  at  a  steady 
trot  along  the  downward,  homeward  way.  Now 
and  then  Rochester  heard  Neuberg  sigh  as  if 
oppressed,  and  anon  saw  him  look  up  to  the  sky 
as  one  sorely  puzzled  and  shake  his  head. 

But  the  Duke's  own  heart  was  bound  up  in  too 
tight  a  grip  of  pain  ;  he  could  not  even  sigh,  nor 
could  he  look  upwards,  for  his  trouble  was  one  for 
which  there  was  no  help  in  heaven.  His  pride 
was  bleeding  from  more  than  one  wound,  and 
bleeding  inwardly,  as  is  the  way  with  such. 
The  woman  of  high  lineage,  his  kinswoman,  his 
countrywoman ;  she  who  had  smiled  upon  him, 
who  had  as  a  Divine  favour  kissed  him  in  his 
sleep ;  his  goddess  for  whom  he  had  built  a  hid- 
den shrine  of  boyish  worship,  whom  he  had  loved 
and  set  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  world  —  all,  all 
down  in  the  dust !  He  shuddered  with  a  deadly 
nausea,  as  an  injured  man  might  at  the  ugliness 
of  his  own  hurt.  The  first  great  disillusion  in 
life  is  like  a  blighting  frost  in  the  young  spring. 


350  Young  April 

The  whole  smiling  face  of  Nature  is  changed  in 
a  moment ;  the  trees  will  bud  again,  the  bulb 
will  push  forth  fresh  shoots,  but  the  first  exqui- 
site, delicate,  confident  promise  has  been  lost  for 
ever. 

It  was  only  when  the  lights  of  the  town  shone 
out  on  the  night  before  them  that  the  silence 
between  the  young  men  was  broken.  Then 
Rochester  spoke  out  of  the  sour  fury  of  his 
heart. 

"And  after  all,"  he  said,  with  a  little  laugh, 
"  we  do  not  know  where  Eva  went,  nor  why  she 
did  not  sing.  We  have  a  proverb  in  England 
that  warns  us  against  premature  rejoicing.  I 
for  one,"  said  the  youth  in  secret  to  himself, 
"shall  never  trust  woman  again." 

Neuberg  drew  rein  and  turned  in  his  saddle  for 
a  second,  but  Rochester,  if  he  could  have  seen  as 
well  as  felt  the  murderous  look,  would  have  cared 
no  more.  Then  the  ofiicer  violently  set  spurs  to 
his  horse  and  never  relaxed  in  his  breakneck  pace 
until  he  reached  the  Palace  stables. 

Rochester,  left  in  the  rear,  despite  his  efforts, 
reached  the  yard  only  in  time  to  see  his  friend 
leave  it  on  foot  at  a  running  pace.  He  himself, 
dismounting  and  setting  off  in  pursuit  with 
stiffened,  almost  failing,  limbs,  had  hard  work  to 


Young  April  351 

keep  the  flying  figure  in  sight.  But  he  knew 
from  the  direction  that  its  goal  was  Eva's  house. 
Uninvited,  hardly  knowing  why,  he  followed. 
There  was  in  his  soul  a  great  dread  of  the  first 
moment  of  solitude. 


XXXVI 

"  Peace  !     Sit  you  down, 
And  let  me  wring  your  heart." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

UPON  the  little  landing  upon  which  opened 
the  doors  both  of  Eva's  parlour  and  bedroom  the 
Duke  found  Neuberg,  standing  still  and  listen- 
ing. Obeying  a  peremptory  signal,  he  bent  his 
ear  and  listened  likewise. 

Upon  Neuberg's  pale  parched  lips  there  was  a 
curious  smile.  Within,  voices  were  calling  to 
each  other  from  one  room  to  the  other  —  the 
unmodulated  soprano  of  the  singer,  the  mellow 
bass  of  Spencer.  Both  rang  upon  a  cheerful 
note. 

"  Civilization,"  Spencer  was  saying,  "  has 
brought  us  and  brings  us  many  thoughts  good 
and  noble ;  it  has  abolished  superstition  and 
torture;  but  every  good  has  its  attendant  evil. 
We,  most  of  us,  are  growing  effete  now  that 
personal  courage  is  no  longer  the  main  test  of 
the  man's  worth.  We  have  become  ultra-luxu- 

352 


Young  April  353 

rious  —  creatures  of  many  wants  —  since  the 
spread  of  education,  and  the  longing  for  the 
beautiful  begins  to  reach  from  the  higher  to 
the  lesser  classes ;  incomplete  in  our  lives  and 
discontented  in  our  thoughts,  since  we  no  longer 
accept  without  inquiry  the  maxims  and  reasons 
that  satisfied  our  ancestors.  The  old  simple 
remedies,  the  herb-drink,  the  febrifuge,  are  as 
much  things  of  the  past  as  the  unquestioning 
faith,  the  natural  acceptance  of  life's  problem, 
the  charm  and  the  incantation." 

"And  the  moral  is,  lieber  Herr  Doctor,"  in- 
terrupted Eva,  with  clear  burst  of  laughter  — 
"  the  moral  is  :  camomile  tea  !  " 

"  Camomile  tea,  certainly,"  said  Spencer 
smoothly ;  "  a  most  valuable  remedy,  if  applied 
in  the  proper  conditions.  These  little  flowers 
(ah,  how  aromatic  they  are !)  must  be  infused 
in  boiling  water ;  the  water  must  be  quite,  not 
only  just,  boiling  ;  the  decoction  allowed  to  stand 
for  one  minute  to  draw  the  whole  essence,  yet 
poured  off  in  time  to  leave  the  great  bitterness 
unextracted  —  for  even  the  camomile  flower  has 
its  latent  bitterness." 

"  Ah  !  "  sighed  Eva  gustily,  "  what  flower  in 
life  has  not  ?  " 

"Sometimes,"   added   Spencer  parenthetically, 

2A 


354  Young  April 

"  the  bitter  is  the  more  wholesome  portion ;  but 
if  the  potion  is  to  avail,  the  patient  must  take 
it  as  hot  as  possible,  and  in  bed,  and  must  en- 
deavour to  compose  instantly  afterwards  to  sleep. 
Therefore,  Madame  Eva,"  he  added  briskly,  "as 
soon  as  you  are  in  bed,  I  pray  you  to  let  me 
know." 

"  Good,  good  ! "  said  Eva ;  and  the  sound  of 
a  staylace  hissing  was  heard  in  the  momentary 
silence. 

"If  you  are  within  an  appreciable  distance," 
said  Spencer's  voice,  "I  will  set  the  water  to 
boil." 

The  clatter  of  her  slipper  heels  sounded  to  and 
fro  upon  the  painted  boards.  There  was  an  ener- 
getic closing  and  opening  of  drawers,  then  an- 
other pause,  and  then  she  began  afresh  in  altered 
tones  : 

"  Spencer,  I  shall  never  forget  this  night  — 
never.  When  I  went  to  you,  every  fibre  of  me 
was  in  revolt.  I  was  furious,  insulted,  disgusted. 
I  was  in  that  mood  when  I  believe  a  human  being 
is  made  or  marred.  Like  molten  metal,  I  was 
ready  to  be  poured  into  any  mould,  according 
into  whose  hands  I  fell.  My  good  angel  took  me 
to  you.  Oh,  can  I  ever  forget  the  heavenly 
things  you  have  said  to  me  —  your  heavenly 


Young  April  355 

goodness  !  You  have  raised  me  in  my  own  eyes 
—  made  me  understand  my  own  dignity  and  the 
high  vocation  of  womanhood.  I  know  now  how 
divine  a  thing  even  hopeless  love  may  be  —  how 
great  a  gift,  although  it  may  bring  no  return  — 
indeed,  nothing  but  sorrow.  How  true  it  is  —  I 
feel  it  in  myself  —  that  an  unselfish  love  is  en- 
nobling and  purifying  !  What  was  it  you  said  ? 
4  All  trouble  and  pain  in  this  world  will  work  to 
our  perfecting,  if  we  only  know  how  to  use  it.' 
How  hard,  how  cruel,  how  cold  we  should  be  if 
we  knew  ourselves  exempt  from  suffering  or 
sorrow  !  At  the  least,  it  is  the  one  great  bond 
of  humanity,  at  the  highest,  the  incentive  which 
makes  us  rise  superior  to  its  pettiness.  I  am  not 
jealous  any  more,"  she  went  on,  but  with  a  little 
catch  in  her  breath.  "  May  you  never  be  put  to 
the  test  yourself ;  may  your  love  never  be  less 
happy  than  now !  I  wanted  to  tell  you  this, 
Spencer,  but  I  could  not  whilst  you  were  looking 
at  me." 

"It  strikes  me,"  said  Spencer's  voice,  "that 
you  are  catching  cold." 

"  Oh  dear !  "  said  Eva  rather  crossly,  "  I  wish 
you  were  not  always  such  a  grandfather !  "  She 
petulantly  kicked  off  her  slippers  ;  they  hurtled 
across  the  room  and  violently  struck  the  door, 


356  Young  April 

outsid«  which  her  lover  was  eavesdropping. 
Then  again  in  a  new  tone  of  voice  :  "  I  wonder," 
she  said,  "where  that  great  stupid  Neuberg  can 
be  all  this  while  ?  " 

Neuberg's  face,  which  had  been  clouded  for  a 
moment,  became  suddenly  illumined  ;  he  opened 
the  door  of  the  sitting-room  and  walked  in,  fol- 
lowed by  Rochester. 

With  his  back  to  them,  Spencer  was  carefully 
bending  over  the  stove,  waiting  for  the  ebullition 
of  a  little  kettle.  In  his  right  hand  he  held  the 
china  tea-pot  with  the  lid  off.  He  made  no  at- 
tempt to  turn  round  at  the  sound  of  the  intruders' 
footsteps,  but  cried  cheerily  :  "  Oh,  Neuberg,  is 
it  you  ?  And  are  you  there  too,  my  little  friend  ? 
You  come  at  the  psychological  moment :  half  a 
minute  later,  and  you  should  not  have  been  ad- 
mitted to  see  Eva ;  but  now  you  may  watch  her 
drink  her  posset." 

From  the  inner  room  Eva  yawned  obstreper- 
ously. "Ah,  Doctor,  who  are  you  talking  to 
there  ?  "  she  asked  ;  "  and  what  about  the  famous 
potion  ?  " 

"  Coming,  coming,"  cried  the  Philosopher.  The 
kettle  ceased  singing,  and  instantly  began  to  jet 
gteam  and  vapour. 

"Neuberg,"   said   Spencer,    "will   you   kindly 


Young  April  357 

empty  the  hot  water  out  of  the  cup  and  bring  it 
here?" 

"  Ah !  "  cried  Eva  within,  "  is  that  truant  with 
you?  And  what  has  he  got  to  say  for  himself? 
Let  him  come  in." 

"  Give  me  the  cup,"  said  Spencer ;  then,  struck 
by  his  friend's  taciturnity,  he  wheeled  round  and 
looked  from  one  to  the  other.  With  the  tea-pot 
in  one  hand  and  the  cup  in  the  other,  he  re- 
mained staring.  Neuberg  looked  like  a  man  who 
has  just  ridden  off  a  battle-field ;  the  Duke  as  if 
he  had  escaped  from  a  house  of  thieves. 

"  In  God's  name  !  "  ejaculated  Spencer,  and 
grew  quite  pale  himself,  "  what  has  happened  to 
you,  my  dear  fellows  ?  " 

The  singer's  chief  virtue  was  not  patience. 
She  began  to  clamour. 

"  What  are  you  up  to,  you  people  ?  Doctor, 
is  this  how  you  treat  a  nervous  patient  ?  If  you 
do  not  come  this  minute,  both  of  you,  I  shall  have 
to  get  up  and  see  what  the  matter  is  !  " 

"  Don't  you  mean  to  administer  your  prescrip- 
tion?" said  Neuberg;  "then  I  will!"  He  took 
the  cup  from  Spencer's  hand  and  boldly  entered 
Eva's  room.  The  Philosopher  followed  with  the 
tea-pot,  and  Rochester,  in  a  dreamy  state,  brought 
up  the  rear.  He  was  past  feeling  any  strong 


358  Young  April 

emotion  just  now.  Even  his  own  actions  seemed 
remote  from  his  thoughts :  it  was  as  though  he 
were  an  actor  in  a  play,  mechanically  carrying  out 
an  unimportant  part ;  or,  yet  again,  a  weary  spec- 
tator who  scarcely  knows  he  watches  a  fleeting  show 
that  he  will  not  take  the  trouble  to  understand. 

In  this  impersonal  fashion  he  saw  Eva's  spa- 
cious fresh  bedroom  and  its  white  toilet-table  and 
the  bed  in  the  alcove  under  the  blue  and  white 
muslin  curtains ;  saw  Eva  propped  up  among 
pillows,  looking  more  girlish  than  she  had  ever 
seemed  before,  large  and  soft  and  fair,  with  her 
hair  in  two  great  ropes  on  either  shoulder. 

"  Merciful  heavens  ! "  she  cried,  as  Neuberg 
advanced  into  the  circle  of  light  towards  the  bed, 
"  when  did  you  last  have  a  wash  ?  Do  not  come 
near  my  little  bed,  you  muddy  monster ! " 

"  Eva  !  "  said  Neuberg,  standing  on  the  rug  at 
a  respectful  distance,  but  reaching  her  with  his 
eye's  desire,  and  making  an  effort  at  his  usual 
gaiety  of  manner,  "  what  a  lovely  jacket !  You 
are  more  beautiful  than  ever." 

"  It  is  more  than  I  can  say  for  you,  my  poor 
friend.  Ah,  and  my  little  postilion,  and  where 
have  you  been? — postilioning  again,  Duke?"  with 
a  mocking  glance  at  his  nether  limbs,  where  the 
breeches  were  rent  below  the  knees  :  "  you  forgot 


Young  April  359 

to  put  those  boots  on,  that  is  evident  I "  Then 
she  suddenly  raised  and  stiffened  herself  and  her 
face  changed.  "But  what  is  the  matter?"  she 
cried  sharply.  "Spencer,  what  have  they  been 
doing  ?  Neuberg,  speak  !  " 

All  was  silent,  but  in  the  silence  the  spoon 
rattled  against  the  saucer  of  the  cup  that  Neu- 
berg was  holding. 

Eva  leant  forward  in  her  bed  and  pointed  her 
white  forefinger  at  the  officer. 

"You  were  out  with  the  King  at  dawn,"  she 
cried;  "the  King  has  made  you  gallop  all  day, 
but  it  is  not  that.  Ah !  wait  a  minute ;  that 
little  man  was  inquiring  for  me  when  you  found 
the  theatre  closed.  You  met,  perhaps ;  you  were 
frightened  about  me ;  you  imagined " 

She  read  Neuberg's  convicted  countenance  like 
a  book,  then  she  suddenly  clapped  her  hands  to- 
gether and  cried : 

"  My  God  !  they  have  been  to  the  Geisberg 
after  me ! " 

She  flung  herself  back  on  her  pillows  and  broke 
into  a  wild  fit  of  laughter,  in  the  midst  of  which 
she  all  at  once  stopped,  flushed  crimson,  and  grew 
rigid. 

"  And  you  thought  that  of  me  !  How  dared 
you  I  how  dared  you  I  " 


360  Young  April 

She  turned  her  hot  face  away,  but  Neuberg 
could  see  an  angry  blood  stain  the  fair  neck  to 
the  edge  of  her  wrapper.  Forgetful  of  her  pro- 
hibition, he  put  down  the  cup,  and  kneeling  be- 
side her  white  bed,  ventured  to  lay  his  grimy 
fingers  upon  her  clenched  hand.  Spencer  looked 
on,  benevolent,  superior,  abstaining  from  inter- 
ference between  those  two  for  whose  mutual 
happiness  he  so  earnestly  wished. 

Neuberg,  indeed,  seemed  oblivious  just  then  of 
everything  except  himself  and  his  beloved. 

"  It  was,"  he  said,  "  a  crime  to  doubt  you  ;  yet 
—  yes,  I  went  to  the  Geisberg  to  save  you,  if  pos- 
sible. And  I  stood  like  a  spy  outside  the  King's 
door,  waiting  to  see  who  would  pass  in  to  him, 
and  .  .  .  Eva,  I  thought  to  see  you.  But  if  I 
sinned,  I  suffered !  Eva,  when  I  heard  the  sound 
of  the  woman  coming,  I  could  not  look  up." 

"The  woman!"  exclaimed  Eva,  turning  her 
angry  face  round  and  snatching  her  hand  from 
Neuberg's  touch.  "  The  woman  !  there  was  a 
woman,  then  —  it  is  a  harem  !  My  faith !  I 
ought  to  be  flattered !  A  pretty  master  you 
have  got,  Neuberg.  Shame  on  you,  that  you  can 
serve  such  a  one !  Yes,  I  did  receive  an  invita- 
tion from  his  illustrious  Majesty.  I  answered  it, 
too  —  an  answer  he  will  not  file  among  the  State 


Young  April  361 

archives  !  He  does  not  beat  about  the  bush,  your 
King.  Pif,  paf,  he  throws  you  a  jewel,  and  then 
it  is  :  « Into  my  arms,  Beauty  I '  Oh,  if  I  could 
have  only  felt  my  hand  against  his  cheek ! " 

"  Angel,  angel ! "  murmured  Neuberg  ecstati- 
cally. 

The  angel  gasped. 

"  No,  Spencer,  no,"  she  went  on  as  soon  as  she 
recovered  breath  enough.  "  I  am  not  going  into 
hysterics  again.  So,  Captain  von  Neuberg,  you 
thought  your  Eva  was  made  like  that ;  that  a 
Royal  satyr  had  only  to  smile  and  to  beckon,  and 
the  nymph  was  his  !  Flattering,  to  say  the  least 
of  it." 

She  paused  *,  good-humour  was  gradually  over- 
spreading once  more  a  countenance  never  made 
for  continued  frowns,  but  there  was  still  a  sparkle 
of  malice  in  her  eyes. 

"  Well,"  she  ejaculated,  with  one  of  her  exuber- 
ant sighs,  "  you  seem  to  have  gone  a  pretty  wild- 
goose  chase,  anyhow.  Serves  you  right ;  you  are 
enough  to  frighten  the  crows.  The  postilion  over 
there  has  had  more  than  he  bargained  for,  or  I  am 
much  mistaken.  For  God's  sake,  Spencer,  make 
the  poor  child  sit  down  :  he  looks  tired  to  death ! 
"Well,  there,  I  suppose  I  must  forgive  you.  It 
was  certainly  startling  to  find  not  only  that  the 


362  Voting  April 

bird  would  not  sing,  but  that  it  had  flown.  Sing ! 
Eva  sing  for  that  Pasha  !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  a 
sudden  fresh  burst  of  passion.  "I  had  rather 
never  open  my  beak  again !  And  as  for  flying 
to  his  infamous  roosting-place,  I'd  rather  hop  on 
one  leg  for  the  rest  of  my  time  !  No,  no,  not  for 
me  !  No  farther  did  my  wings  bear  me  than  to 
our  good  Spencer's  cock-loft,  and  a  pretty  scene  I 
made  him,  poor  fellow  !  He  got  it  all  —  the 
whole  gamut  of  a  woman  in  hysterics." 

Fluctuations  of  sunshine  and  cloud  swept  across 
her  face  as  rapidly  as  across  an  April  sky.  The 
storm  still  lingered  in  the  atmosphere  and  shook 
her  at  intervals  as  with  fierce  reminiscence,  but 
there  was  no  more  sourness  in  her  mood  than  in 
the  sweetest  mood  of  spring  ;  and  Neuberg,  know- 
ing himself  forgiven,  began  to  feel  the  secondary 
trouble  weigh  upon  him  with  increasing  serious- 
ness. 

He  rose  from  his  knees  and  stood  for  a  minute 
or  two  eying  Spencer  in  deep  thought.  As  the 
latter  met  his  friend's  look,  a  certain  anxiety  be- 
gan to  creep  into  the  placidity  of  his  expression. 

"Gustaf,"  said  he,  "we  do  not  yet  know  all. 
You  are  hiding  something.  You  and  that  boy 
yonder,  you  have  got  into  some  precious  scrape. 
Confess  him,  Eva." 


Young  April  363 

"  Oh,"  cried  Eva,  once  more  clasping  her  hands 
and  gazing  with  a  mixture  of  delight  and  terror 
at  her  lover's  furrowed  countenance,  "you  have 
not  —  you  have  not  faced  the  King  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  he  in  a  low  voice  ;  "  His  Majesty 
has  not  yet,  as  far  as  I  know,  the  least  idea  of  our 
presence  at  the  Geisberg  to-night." 

It  would  have  been  hard  to  say  whether  Eva's 
sigh,  as  she  threw  herself  back,  were  dedicated  to 
relief  or  disappointment. 

"My  doctor,"  said  she,  "we  are  too  romantic. 
Our  friends  have  been  through  a  good  deal  of 
hard  exercise  and  poor  humanity  is  tired,  that's 
all.  You  must  take  them  home  and  tuck  them  up 
and  give  them  camomile  tea.  ..." 

Here  Neuberg  turned  upon  her  a  look  so  elo- 
quent of  dumb  distress  that  she  broke  off  suddenly, 
abashed  and  bewildered.  After  a  second's  hesita- 
tion, she  held  out  her  hand  to  him  and  said,  in  a 
voice  of  exquisite  kindness  : 

"  I  see  how  it  is  :  he  has  yet  a  burden  on  his 
breast.  My  dear  fellow,  it  is  I  who  will  confess. 
I  was  wrong,  entirely  wrong,  and  you  were  right. 
I  might  as  well  have  clasped  Cleopatra's  asp  about 
my  neck  as  those  jewels  :  they  were  poisoned. 
Why  I  accepted  them,  God  only  knows !  I  was 
mad,  I  think,  but  I  am  sane  now."  She  cast,  as 


364  Young  April 

she  spoke,  on  Spencer  a  glance  half  sad,  half  arch. 
"I  was  possessed  by  a  devil  —  he  has  exorcised 
it,"  she  went  on.  "  I  had  no  more  peace  than  you 
had,  Neuberg,  while  those  green-eyed  things  were 
under  my  roof ;  but  now  they  are  gone  —  ah  !  it 
is  all  over  ;  I  breathe  again,  and  you  need  never 
be  jealous  any  more." 

Neuberg  bent  down  over  the  gentle  hand  ;  but 
it  was  as  much  to  hide  his  face  as  to  thank  his 
mistress.  Her  eye  fell  upon  his  bent,  close-cropped 
head  with  an  expression  it  had  never  worn  towards 
her  persevering  lover  before.  All  at  once  she  began 
to  laugh.  "  At  any  rate,"  she  said,  winking  away 
a  tear,  "these  emeralds  have  not  been  without 
their  uses ;  they  have  opened  my  eyes  to  the  fact 
that  we  women  cannot  play  with  fire — a  good 
lesson !  They  have  opened  Spencer's  eyes  to  the 
true  character  of  a  King  by  whom  he  was  ready 
to  swear.  Oh  yes,  you  may  be  as  philosophic  now 
as  you  please,  but  you  know  you  were  nearly  as 
angry  as  I  was  myself  when  I  told  you.  And 
besides,"  she  added  and  laughed  mockingly,  "for 
such  of  you  as  remain  about  that  Sacred  Person, 
it  will  not  be  without  interest,  perhaps,  to  see 
whom  the  stones  may  next  adorn." 

Hardly  had  she  said  the  words  when  her  quick 
eye  caught  the  look  upon  the  Guardsman's  face, 


Young  April  365 

as  lie  hastily  raised  it  and  exchanged  a  glance  with 
the  Duke,  who  was  himself  unable  to  repress  a 
movement  that  was  like  a  spasm  of  pain. 

"I  will  wager,"  she  cried  loudly  —  "I  will 
wager  that  both  these  young  men  have  seen  my 
emeralds  walk  about  this  very  night.  Oh  !  do 
not  deny  it :  your  faces  are  open  pages.  Upon 
my  soul,  this  model  potentate  is  beyond  every- 
thing !  The  lady  —  the  lady,  Neuberg  ?  Ah  ! 
Come,  you  know  you  said  you  saw  a  lady  ;  those 
emeralds  were  not  walking  about  alone.  What 
is  the  matter  with  you  .  .  .  since  it  was  not 
Eva?" 

Neuberg  ran  his  hand  distractedly  through  his 
hair,  opened  his  mouth  and  closed  it  again  dumbly ; 
then,  as  if  moved  by  a  sudden  resolve,  he  went 
over  to  Spencer  and  laid  his  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Michael,"  said  he,  "  if  a  hard  thing  has  to  be 
done,  it  were  better  it  were  done  at  once.  You 
yourself  would  be  the  first  to  see  it  so.  If  a  sur- 
geon had  to  perform  a  cruel  operation  to  save  a 
man's  life,  you  would  not  call  him  a  bad  friend  to 
that  man,  would  you  ?  " 

Eva,  awed  into  silence,  opened  a  red  mouth  and 
round  wide  eyes  and  leant  forward  in  the  bed. 
Spencer's  healthy  face  went  suddenly  white,  but 
he  did  not  speak. 


366  Young  April 

"  Tell  me,"  went  on  Neuberg,  in  a  voice  which 
no  one  would  have  recognized  as  his,  "  for  what 
reason  did  you  not  spend  the  evening  with  the 
Countess  de  Lucena  ?  " 

Spencer  sprang  from  his  chair  as  if  he  had  been 
struck ;  an  overpowering  tide  of  blood  rushed  to 
his  brow. 

"  She  sent  word,"  he  said,  almost  in  a  whisper, 
"  that  she  had  a  headache."  Then,  with  a  roar  like 
that  of  a  wounded  lion  :  "  Why  did  you  ask  me  that 
question  ?  "  cried  he.  "  Why  did  you  ask  me  that 
question  ?  " 

There  was  an  instant's  terrible  silence. 

"  Why  did  you  ask  me  that  question  ?  "  repeated 
Spencer,  flinging  his  clenched  hands  high  above 
his  head  and  shaking  them  as  if  he  would  defy 
truth  itself. 

"  Oh,  Michael,"  said  poor  Neuberg,  "  she  wore 
the  emeralds  !  " 

All  instinctively  averted  their  eyes  from  the 
stricken  man.  He  stood  with  his  arms  still  raised 
aloft  yet  another  moment,  then  let  them  fall  by  his 
side,  and  after  violently  pacing  the  room  twice  up 
and  down,  rushed  blindly  to  the  door. 

"  Spencer,  be  yourself  !  "  cried  Eva ;  and  then  : 
"Neuberg,  go  with  him." 

The  next  moment  she  and  Rochester  were  alone. 
Down  Eva's  cheeks  the  tears  were  streaming. 


Young  April  367 

"Heavens,  what  a  night!"  said  she.  "Ah, 
Duke,  and  I  who  thought  myself  so  unhappy  to 
love  in  vain  !  To  see  someone  that  one  loves 
suffer,  that  is  the  greatest  grief  of  all." 

The  Duke  detached  himself  from  the  wall 
against  which  he  had  been  leaning,  motionless  and 
silent.  As  a  man  walking  in  his  sleep  he  came 
over  to  Eva's  side. 

"  No,"  said  he,  in  a  toneless  voice,  "  there  is  a 
worse  grief  still :  it  is  to  see  the  one  we  love  un- 
worthy." 

She  looked  after  him,  astonished,  as  without 
another  word  he  turned  and  left  her  too. 

But  outside  in  the  silent  street,  with  only  the 
stars  of  heaven  to  see  him,  the  bond  of  iron  which 
kept  his  faculties  in  control  suddenly  fell  away  ; 
broken  alike  bodily  and  mentally,  he  cast  himself 
against  the  wall  of  Eva's  house,  and,  hiding  his 
face  in  his  hands,  wept  with  sobs  and  tears. 
***** 

Eva  remained  for  a  long  time  lost  in  reflection, 
while  her  candles  guttered  in  their  sockets  and 
night  waned  to  morning.  Then  she  roused  her- 
self with  a  deep  sigh,  and  catching  sight  of  the 
camomile  tea,  cold,  untasted,  by  her  bedside,  took 
it  and  drained  it  at  a  draught. 

"  Oh,"  said  she,  her  face  drawn  together  with  a 
grimace,  "  how  bitter !  " 


XXXVII 

"  Mon  Avril  se  meurt  feuille  a  feuille 
Sur  chaque  branche  que  je  cueille 
Croit  1'^pine  de  la  douleur." 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

WITH  what  tightening  of  the  heart  a  little  while 
ago  had  Rochester  contemplated  the  inexorable 
flitting  of  this  month  !  Every  warmer  ray  of 
sunshine,  every  new  flower  that  burst  its  sheath, 
every  token  of  stronger  life,  had  been  as  many 
painful  reminders  that  the  sands  were  running  low 
in  the  glass  of  his  happy  hours. 

But  to-day,  as,  shy  of  the  company  of  his  kind, 
he  strolled  solitary  on  the  deserted  bank  of  the 
river  without  the  town  and  saw  how  the  green 
had  spread  all  over  the  country  since  his  first  ac- 
quaintance with  it,  how  clothed  were  the  bare 
branches,  how  tall  the  wheat,  how  flowered  the 
wild  orchid  and  sweet  the  lilac  bush,  it  was  with 
a  bitter  joy  he  told  himself  that  his  month  of  fool- 
ing had  nearly  waned. 

At  his  foot  the  river  wound,  dazzling  beneath 
368 


Young  April  369 

the  cloudless  sky  ,  from  above  the  song  of  the 
lark,  beating  against  the  vault  of  blue,  fell  back 
to  the  earth  like  a  shower  ;  but  in  Rochester's 
soul  the  freezing  blight  of  disillusion  had  devas- 
tated all  the  garden  of  youth.  Yonder,  within 
that  circle  of  gray  walls,  life  had  unfolded  to  him, 
the  eager  boy,  undreamed  of  and  exquisite  pros- 
pects ;  but  now  he  stood  and  felt  himself  a  man, 
hardened  and  embittered,  the  flower  of  his  youth 
nipped  in  the  blossom  and  the  fruit  of  experience 
already  bitter  on  his  palate  before  he  had  tasted 
of  its  sweetness.  All  the  glamour  had  been 
brushed  at  one  fell  swoop  from  what  but  yesterday 
had  seemed  so  full,  so  warm,  so  joyously  coloured 
a  life.  The  companionship  of  Neuberg  —  Neu- 
berg,  who  had  danced  with  joy  because  she  had 
borne  the  guilt  instead  of  Eva  —  seemed  almost 
unbearable  ;  still  more  so  that  of  Spencer,  the 
commoner,  who  had  won  because  he  had  pre- 
sumed, who  had  been  favoured  where  he,  the 
Duke  of  Rochester,  had  hesitated  to  aspire  ;  even 
Eva,  wholesome,  human  Eva,  who  had  once  been 
to  the  healthy  young  appetite  of  his  first  emanci- 
pation all  that  it  could  crave  for,  had  become,  for 
a  palate  initiated  to  fare  of  a  savour  so  exquisite, 
too  coarse,  too  simple  —  distasteful  I 

The  present  was  all  weariness  and  vexation  of 

2B 


3/0  Young  April 

spirit,  the  immediate  past  a  blushing  memory  of 
green  folly  ;  only  the  contemplation  of  the  future, 
with  its  earnest,  grave  duties,  its  dignity,  its  solid 
reality,  could  he  face  with  re-establishment  of 
equanimity.  Well,  it  was  all  over  !  But  a  few 
hours  remained  to  him  of  his  allotted  span. 

With  what  satisfaction  would  he  see  the  dust 
of  this  unholy  capital  fall  from  his  carriage- 
wheels  —  no  later  than  this  day !  For  him  the 
sun  should  set  upon  other  scenes. 

So  determining,  he  turned  upon  his  course  and 
began  hastening  towards  the  town,  following,  as 
before,  the  bend  of  the  river.  Upon  the  little 
quay  opposite  Spencer's  house  he  involuntarily 
halted  for  a  moment,  and  his  mind  went  back  to 
that  night  when  he  had  felt,  as  he  crossed  the 
threshold  of  that  house,  that  he  was  stepping  into 
a  new  country.  He  thought  of  his  own  boyish 
simplicity  with  a  pathetic  sense  of  self-pity. 
How  far  away  it  seemed,  separated  by  the  gulf 
of  last  night's  events  !  There  was  but  one  drop 
of  consolation  in  his  cup,  and  that  consolation 
was  an  unworthy  one  :  up  yonder  the  superior 
man  —  the  man  of  such  experience  in  many  climes 
—  the  conquering  Philosopher,  had  been  even 
more  gallingly  deceived,  and  was  suffering  at 
least  no  less  than  he! 


XXXVIII 

"  O  most  delicate  fiend ! 
Who  is't  can  read  a  woman  ?  " 

SHAKESPEARE. 

As  Rochester  stood  and  mused  with  a  very 
withering  curl  upon  his  beardless  lip,  through  the 
open  door  of  the  gothic  house  a  figure  emerged 
with  the  headlong  energy  that  would  have  pro- 
claimed it  Neuberg  to  anyone  that  knew  him, 
even  had  not  the  blue-and-silver  dolman  flashed 
out  into  the  sun. 

Out  in  the  centre  of  the  road  the  King's 
Equerry  paused,  gyrated  once  upon  himself  as 
if  to  reconnoitre  on  every  side,  caught  sight  of 
the  watcher  under  the  poplar-tree,  and,  with  an 
eager  gesture,  made  straight  for  him. 

Never  to  the  Duke's  eye  had  his  month-old 
friend  looked  smarter  or  more  soldierly  spruce. 
There  was  not  a  speck  or  a  crease  on  his  uniform; 
his  face  was  shorn  smooth  as  a  woman's,  but 
yesterday's  work  had  left  its  stamp  upon  it,  never- 
theless, and  his  encircled  lids  were  those  of  a  man 


372  Voting  April 

who  has  not  slept.  Above  all  there  was  a  look 
of  intense  gravity.  To  Rochester's  deliberate 
coolness,  concentrated  self-importance,  and  air  of 
universal  disapprobation,  Count  Neuberg  paid  — 
if,  indeed,  he  noticed  them  —  not  the  smallest 
attention. 

"  Where  have  you  been  ?  "  cried  he  in  greeting. 
"  I  have  hunted  for  you  all  the  morning  ;  "  and 
without  waiting  for  a  reply  :  "  I  must  go  to  the 
Palace,"  said  he  ;  "but  we  can  talk  as  we  go." 

He  gripped  the  boy  by  the  elbow  and  started 
him  in  time  to  his  own  martial  step  by  sheer 
moral  and  physical  force.  As  they  went  Neuberg 
poured  out  his  pent-up  news. 

"  Of  course  you  knew,"  said  he,  "  when  I  did 
not  come  back  all  night,  that  I  had  to  be  with 
Spencer.  Good  God  !  what  a  night  it  has  been  ! 
But  now,  complications  having  reached  their 
crisis,  the  knot  is  about  to  be  cut.  Spencer  and 
Sachs  —  stay,  I  will  tell  you  from  the  beginning. 
At  first  the  poor  fellow  was  hardly  conscious  of 
my  presence,  and,  lashing  himself  in  his  misery, 
he  tramped  up  and  down  his  attics  from  the  east 
to  the  west,  and  poured  forth  his  tale  of  bitter 
injury  in  a  voice  that  I  thought  must  shake  from 
his  sleep  every  sleeper  in  the  town.  Wounded 
in  his  very  vitals,  my  Philosopher  was  all  human. 


Young-  April  373 

Philosophy  applies  best  to  other  people  ;  for, 
after  all,  the  Philosopher,  like  the  Jew,  will  bleed, 
if  you  prick  him,  with  the  rest  of  mortals.  Roch- 
ester, that  woman  can  never  know  the  love  she 
has  played  with  ;  even  I,  lover  as  I  am,  I  had  no 
suspicion  it  had  rooted  so  deep.  It  was  the 
sordid  injustice  of  it  that  cut  him  sorest.  'What 
went  on  before  she  knew  me,'  said  he,  'I  could 
ignore  —  nay,  what  would  it  have  been  to  me? 
No  more  than  forgotten  dreams  ;  for  one  pure 
love  will  create  a  new  virginity.  But  that  she 
should  carry  her  lips,  consecrated  by  my  kisses, 
back  to  her  ignoble  lover  —  that  she  should  inter- 
weave with  our  soaring  passion  the  unholy  web 
of  such  an  intrigue  —  oh,  the  vileness  of  it ! '  To 
him,  you  know,  Rochester,  the  very  fact  of  its 
being  with  the  King  makes  it  ten  times  worse. 
A  king's  mistress  rarely  yields  herself  for  love." 

Rochester  sighed,  and  passed  his  hand  over  his 
forehead,  wet  with  anguish. 

"  After  all,"  he  said  bitterly,  "  her  soaring  pas- 
sion may  be  for  the  King  !  You  all  admired  him, 
even  to  Mr.  Spencer." 

"Ah,"  cried  Neuberg,  "I  truly  believe  that 
Spencer  would  be  almost  glad  to  think  so  :  any- 
thing rather  than  to  see  the  absolute  shattering 
of  the  idol !  But  no  !  *  Either  she  is  incapable,' 


374  Young  April 

said  he,  *  of  any  affection,  and  love  to  her  is  sheer 
wantonness,  or  else  she  loved  me  enough  to  be 
ready  for  a  marriage  of  absolute  disinterestedness, 
but  not  enough  to  give  up  some  game  of  power  — 
who  knows  ?  —  some  sordid  feminine  triumph,  or, 
yet  again — God  help  us! — money.'  Then  he 
burst  out  with  a  roar  :  '  She  did  love  me  —  she 
did  love  me  for  an  hour,  and  that  is  the  worst 
of  all !  * '  Neuberg  paused  involuntarily  and 
halted,  looking  for  sympathy  into  Rochester's 
impassive  face. 

But  with  white  compressed  lips  the  boy  stood 
silent,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground.  His  own 
heart  had  caught  up  Spencer's  cry,  and  he  said 
to  himself  with  an  exceeding  wail  of  sorrow  : 
"  Me,  too  ;  she  loved  me  for  an  hour,  and  that  is 
the  worst  of  all ! "  But  that  secret  should  go 
with  him  to  his  coflfin.  He  was  not  one  of  those, 
he  told  himself  proudly,  who  brayed  their  grief 
to  the  wind. 

44  So  it  went  on,"  said  the  Guardsman,  once 
more  vigorously  propelling  his  companion,  "  until 
the  day  dawned  and  the  first  ray  of  sun,  as  it 
leaped  into  the  room,  splashed  itself  on  that 
damned  little  yellow  cup  the  Circe  gave  him. 
As  Spencer  turned  in  his  stormy  walk  his  eye 
was  drawn  to  it.  Oh,  my  dear  Duke,  that  was  a 


Young  April  2  75 

moment !  His  fury  fell  from  him ;  the  pity  of 
it  overcame  him.  It  all  had  been  to  him  so  per- 
fect, so  beautiful  —  as  beautiful  as  his  very  dreams. 
He  clasped  his  hands,  he  raised  a  lament  that 
pierced  me  to  the  marrow,  spoke  words  unre- 
peatable, and  wept,  Rochester  —  wept  tears  that 
fell  on  my  heart  like  lead." 

Rochester  put  up  his  hand  as  if  to  close  the 
indiscreet  mouth  :  it  was  doubly  repugnant  to 
him  to  hear  of  this  mature  man's  loss  of  self-con- 
trol and  to  hear  of  it  from  his  friend's  lips. 

"  It  was  indeed  the  very  night  of  tears,"  said 
he,  with  a  little  sarcastic  laugh.  "  April  showers 
are  in  season  !  Do  you  think  Mr.  Spencer  would 
like  me  to  hear  all  these  intimate  details  ?  " 

Neuberg  again  stopped  in  his  walk  and  stared, 
at  first  in  utter  amazement,  then  scowlingly,  at 
the  Duke. 

"I  understood,"  said  he  in  a  tone  of  extreme 
huffiness,  dropping  Rochester's  arm  as  he  spoke, 
"that  you  had  requested  to  be  considered  our 
friend?" 

For  a  second  or  two  the  Duke  made  no  reply ; 
but  through  all  his  own  ill-humour  he  was  sensi- 
tive to  Neuberg's  displeasure.  After  all,  the  flower 
of  this  first  real  friendship  of  his  manhood  had 
been  sweet. 


376  Young  April 

"  Ask  me,"  said  he  at  length,  "  any  service,  and 
see  if  I  be  not  ready  to  prove  myself  your  friend." 

The  placable  officer  was  once  more  full  of  eager- 
ness and  effusion. 

"  It  was,"  said  he,  "  for  that  very  reason  that  I 
was  seeking  you  this  morning.  And,  indeed,  you 
are  right :  I  have  wasted  much  time  in  talking 
when  this  was  the  first  thing  to  be  settled.  Know, 
then,  that  that  beast  Sachs  actually  sought  out 
Spencer  this  morning,  having  ridden  over  hot- 
haste  from  the  Geisberg,  sent  by  the  King  (upon 
what  mission  we,  no  doubt,  shall  never  know). 
Spencer  received  him  like  a  god,  calm  in  the  sense 
of  his  own  power.  The  animal  was  taken  aback 
at  seeing  me,  and  wanted  a  private  interview  ;  so  I 
retired  into  the  bedroom.  First,  all  that  I  could 
hear  was  the  ingratiating  growl-growl  of  that 
brute's  voice  ;  then  Spencer  answering,  very  cold 
and  courteous;  then  once  more  the  growl-growl,  and 
then — oh,  the  most  resounding  slap  I  ever  heard  in 
my  life  —  like  a  pistol-shot !  Things  had  come  to 
a  head  sooner  than  even  I  thought  possible.  I 
leaped  into  the  room,  not  a  fraction  of  a  second 
too  soon.  Sachs  had  his  sabre  already  out,  and  my 
Spencer,  in  his  superb  attitude  of  disdain,  would 
have  been  run  through  the  next  instant  had  I  not 
flung  myself  headlong  between  them.  Think  of 


Young  April  377 

it,  Rochester,"  he  went  on,  with  a  sudden  altera- 
tion in  his  voice,  "  what  a  grain  of  infinite  small- 
ness  between  this  world  and  a  great  catastrophe  ! 
A  stiffness  in  the  lock,  a  chair  in  the  way,  an 
uncertain  step — we  should  have  been  widowed 
now,  and  Sachs,  the  scoundrel,  in  his  right,  glory- 
ing !  In  his  right,  for  you  know  our  military 
code :  he  who  bears  sword  by  his  side  must  not 
brook  so  much  as  a  disrespectful  touch.  .  .  . 
There  is  nothing  like  a  philosopher's  slap  for 
soundness !  "Pis  even  as  Spencer  was  once  so 
much  at  pains  to  expound  to  me  :  the  anger  of  a 
benevolent  man  is  mightiest  of  all." 

Rochester,  despite  his  new  pessimism,  was  still 
boy  enough  to  kindle  at  the  hearing  of  the  deed. 

"  It  was  well  done,"  said  he ;  "I  would  I  had 
been  there ! " 

"  Yes,  it  was  well  done,"  said  Neuberg,  with  a 
sigh,  and  his  countenance  clouded  over  as  he 
spoke ;  "  but  now  still  hangs  that  good  life  upon 
the  hazard  of  a  throw.  I  disarmed  the  Master  of 
the  Horse  a  couple  of  hours  ago.  But  this  even- 
ing, at  sundown,  I  must  stand  by  and  see  him 
make  a  target  of  one  whose  existence  in  this 
naughty  world  is  of  as  great  price  as  his  own  is 
worthless.  And  so  must  you  stand  by,"  he 
added. 


378  Young  April 

"  A  duel  ?  "  whispered  Rochester,  whose  heart 
began  to  beat  very  fast.  "  Notwithstanding  Mr. 
Spencer's  theories  on  the  subject " 

"  Inevitable,  of  course,"  interrupted  the  other 
shortly.  "  It  was  quite  settled  an  hour  ago. 
Without  the  walls,  at  sundown — pistols.  Sachs 
chose  it :  he  prides  himself  on  his  point-blank 
skill.  Ah,  but  he  is  not  aware  that  Spencer  can 
shoot  a  flying  coin  !  Well,  let  us  hope  our  Pro- 
fessor may  outshoot  as  well  as  outride  the  royal 
Pander." 

"  Of  course,  I  consent  to  act  as  Mr.  Spencer's 
second,"  said  the  Duke  with  his  grandest  air. 

"  Well,  keep  a  close  mouth  about  it,"  answered 
Neuberg  brutally,  "for  you  know  the  Royal  re- 
script :  it  is  two  years'  fortress  for  any  officer  to 
fight  himself,  or  aid  and  abet  any  duel  the  cir- 
cumstances of  which  have  not  been  laid  before 
His  Majesty  and  considered  in  what  is  called  the 
Court  of  Honour.  Our  great  King  is  an  honour- 
able man !  However,  Sachs  would  die  rather 
than  own  that  he  had  been  struck  and  that  the 
striker  was  still  walking  ;  so  he  will  risk  for  once 
the  Royal  frown  —  he  has  not  much  fear  of  its 
lasting  long  .  .  .  the  useful  fellow  !  But  he  had 
better  look  out :  His  Majesty  will  tolerate  any- 
thing better  than  failure.  As  for  me,  there  is  in 


Voting  April  379 

this  good  right  arm  "—striking  with  a  youthful 
gesture  the  blue  sleeve, — "what  will  make  Sachs's 
remaining  yellow  cheek  match  the  fine  red  one 
that  Spencer  gave  him,  should  our  friend's  aim 
prove  less  potent  than  his  fist.  Pray  God  it  may 
not !  But  should  it  come  about,  then,  my  God ! 
for  every  drop  of  Michael's  generous  blood  I  shall 
draw  an  ounce  of  the  fellow's  yellow  slime." 
His  lip  trembled  over  the  menacing  words. 
"  Well,  time  slips ;  I  must  run,  Rochester ;  the 
King's  audience-hour  is  nearly  out  .  .  .  and  I 
have  that  to  do  which  cannot  be  put  off." 

An  enigmatic  look  came  over  his  face  as  he 
spoke  ;  it  was  as  if  the  open  page,  where  usually 
all  was  written  clear,  had  suddenly  grown  blank. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  hie  you  back  to  Spencer.  I 
will  meet  you  there.  You  will  find  the  dear  fel- 
low quite  himself.  He  received  from  Paris  this 
morning  a  request  for  a  course  of  lectures  —  the 
prospect  of  the  set  work  roused  him.  This  storm 
has  cleared  the  air  —  I  left  him  quoting  Shake- 
speare ! " 

He  took  two  running  steps,  then  came  back, 
unable  to  resist  the  impulse. 

"  You  should  have  heard  him  on  Sachs  !  '  Not 
even,'  said  he,  '  that  glimmer  of  dignity  which 
redeemed  blackguard  Pistol's  sordid  course,  Play, 


380  Young  April 

Sir  Pandarus  of  Troy,  and  by  my  side  wear 
steel '  /  "  Here  Neuberg  grinned  over  his  shoul- 
der, gave  a  vigorous  tap  on  his  sword-hilt,  and  at 
a  military  stride  vanished  within  the  Palace 
gate. 

After  some  mental  debate,  Rochester,  whose 
humour  had  been  diverted  into  a  considerably  less 
morbid  channel  by  this  breezy  interview,  turned 
his  steps  back  in  the  direction  of  the  Gothic 
house  by  the  river. 

Limply  he  went,  for  his  limbs  ached  still  from 
last  night's  ordeals,  and  his  nervous  system  had 
not  been  built  upon  a  pattern  to  resist  such  a 
change  of  emotions  with  the  impunity  of  the 
Austrian's  iron  frame. 

To  his  somewhat  hesitating  knock,  Spencer's 
voice  responded  with  such  everyday  geniality  that 
he  felt  himself  with  relief  able  to  enter  in  a  nat- 
ural, not  to  say  detached,  manner. 

Spencer,  a  little  pale,  a  little  dark  under  the 
eyes,  but  otherwise  the  same  as  usual,  raised  his 
head  and  greeted  the  new-comer  with  a  smile. 
But  as  Rochester  came  forward  and  took  his 
proffered  hand  he  noticed,  with  a  sudden  upleap 
of  fellow-feeling  that  washed  away  at  once  and 
for  ever  all  sense  of  superciliousness  and  jealousy, 
that  the  Philosopher's  hair,  which  had  yesterday 


Young  April  381 

been  but  lightly  powdered  with  gray,  had  turned 
on  each  temple  as  white  as  silver. 

Upon  his  open  desk  lay  two  sealed  letters, 
showing  what  had  been  his  occupation;  but  just 
then  he  was  bending  over  a  yellow-paged  book,  an 
old  seventeenth-century  treatise  on  the  manners 
and  customs  of  bees  ;  and  falling  back  into  his 
seat,  Spencer  took  up  the  train  of  thought  that 
Rochester  seemed  to  have  interrupted,  with  a 
smile  and  chuckle  of  interested  amusement. 

"  Extraordinary,"  said  he,  "  that  in  the  insect 
world  we  should  find  well-nigh  as  much  evidence 
of  intellect  as  in  the  so-called  higher  order  of 
animals  !  More  so,  I  may  say,  for  the  art  of  liv- 
ing in  community  has  been  brought  to  a  finer 
degree  by  the  ant  and  the  bee  than  by  the  buffalo 
and  the  rook.  Instinct  ?  To  the  average  human 
that  little  word  explains  everything.  Show  him 
the  bee-cell  with  its  solution  of  the  'maximum 
and  minimum '  problem  ;  show  him  the  ordered 
hive  with  its  hierarchy,  its  routine,  the  self- 
sacrificing  energy  whereby  the  unit  strives  for 
the  common  weal,  the  provision  for  emergency, 
for  the  prompt  re-establishment  of  social  equilib- 
rium; and  he  will  say  to  you:  'Very  wonder- 
ful, my  dear  sir  —  instinct!'  Show  him  the 
police  of  the  ant-hill ;  prove  to  him  that  these 


382  Young-  April 

little  creatures  not  only  see  and  hear,  but  reason 
accordingly,  that  they  have  memory  as  well  as 
foresight ;  he  will  shrug  his  shoulders  —  *  In- 
stinct ! '  Superior  man,  he  will  refuse  a  soul  to 
the  dog  that  dies  of  grief  at  his  master's  grave 
and  yet  carry  in  his  own  body  every  unreasoning 
instinct  of  the  lowest  animal ;  nay,  is  not  he  him- 
self more  often  led  by  instinct  than  bee  or  ant  is 
ever  allowed  to  be  led  in  its  community  ?  When 
you  and  Neuberg  hacked  at  each  other  in  the  inn 
room,  what  was  it  moved  you  ?  When  I  go  and 
stake  my  life  to  try  and  chastise  further  this  man 
whom  I  despise  and  hate,  does  reason  guide  me  ? 
No,  young  man  !  Yet  you  open  your  eyes  at  me ; 
you  are  amazed  to  find  me  calm,  to  find  me  myself. 
That  my  hand  is  steady,  my  soul  undisturbed,  is 
reason's  power  —  reason  and  instinct  !  So  are  we 
made  —  strange,  clashing  compound  ;  what  is  of 
earth  will  to  earth,  and  what  is  of  spirit  will  up- 
wards. The  struggle  lasts  till  the  elements  divide." 
He  paused,  looked  up  suddenly,  and  met  the 
Duke's  dazed  eyes  with  a  full  kind  glance  that 
seemed,  as  upon  their  first  meeting,  to  read  the 
secrets  of  the  soul.  Rochester  winced,  blushing, 
and  cast  down  his  long  lids.  Spencer  remained 
gazing  at  him  for  a  minute  in  silence.  There 
were  revealing  ravages  upon  that  youthful  face. 


Young  April  383 

The  Duke  was  too  young  yet,  for  all  his  instinc- 
tive reserve,  to  be  able  to  hide  his  troubled  soul. 

"  I  have  to  thank  you,"  said  Spencer  in  a  some- 
what altered  voice,  "for  consenting  to  stand  by 
me  this  evening,  for  you  came  to  tell  me  that  you 
would,  did  you  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Duke,  his  eye  lighting  vindic- 
tively. 

There  was  a  pause. 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,"  said  Spencer  at 
last  simply;  "excuse  my  lighting  a  pipe.  You 
do  not  smoke  yourself,  I  believe.  Take  the  arm- 
chair :  you  look  very  tired;  lie  back." 

He  filled  his  pipe  reflectively,  and  began  to  pace 
the  length  of  the  room  after  that  fashion  which  in 
him  evoked  no  impression  of  restlessness,  but 
rather  one  of  rhythmical  repose. 

Rochester  leant  back  and  a  soothing  sensation 
crept  over  him.  The  windings  of  the  Philoso- 
pher's mind  were  Chinese  puzzles  to  him,  as  boot- 
less and  unintelligible,  if  ingenious.  But  the 
man's  presence  was  strong,  magnetic,  comforting. 
Half  dozing  he  watched  him,  dreamily  heard  frag- 
ments of  desultory  talk. 

Spencer  smiled  upon  him  once  or  twice  be- 
nevolently and  comprehendingly,  but  went  on 
expounding,  with  certain  pauses  for  initial  re- 


384  Young  April 

flection,  his  views  upon  the  policy  of  the  in- 
sect world.  He  had  proved  at  full  length  and 
apparently  to  his  own  satisfaction  that  their 
government  was  infinitely  more  perfect  and 
systematic  than  that  of  any  kingdom  of  Europe, 
when  the  sudden  opening  of  the  door  awoke 
Rochester  with  a  start,  and  cut  the  thread  of 
further  paradoxical  disquisitions. 


XXXIX 

"  I  know  how  to  curse." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

THE  door  burst  open  and  upon  Rochester's  half- 
dreaming,  half-waking  visions  of  honey-flowers, 
bees,  and  hives,  there  broke  what  seemed  to  be  a 
blue  hurricane. 

This  phenomenon  concentrated  itself  in  the 
middle  of  the  bare  space,  and  began  to  discharge 
some  of  its  energy  in  rolling  thunder  accompanied 
by  the  hurling  of  bolts.  A  cap  was  flung  hurtling 
into  one  corner;  a  great  azure  cloak  described 
fearful  circles  before  being  cast  with  a  dull  thud 
against  the  Philosopher's  book-shelves ;  a  belt 
and  an  empty  scabbard  next  shot  by  Rochester's 
head,  to  be  followed  by  a  meteoric  shower  of  box- 
straps,  epaulettes,  decorations,  and  aiguillettes. 

"  Blast  him  !  "  cried  Neuberg.  "  Blast  him, 
root  and  branch,  bed  and  throne !  Perish  all 
such  vermin,  say  I,  be  they  kings  or  cobblers ! 
May  damnation  and  disaster  dog  him  and  shame 
shadow  him  —  the  Furies  flog  him  and  hell-fire 
2c  385 


386  Young  April 

roar  for  him !  Curse  him !  Curse  him  !  Curse 
him ! " 

Between  stamping  and  anathematizing  and 
struggles  to  tear  off  all  his  trappings  at  once, 
Neuberg,  already  panting  from  his  rapid  ascent, 
here  fairly  lost  breath. 

One  tall  boot  had  gone  with  the  spur-straps, 
and  strips  of  cloth  along  with  the  aiguillettes. 
With  dolman  torn  down  at  the  neck,  he  stood 
motionless  for  a  few  seconds,  and  rolled  his  eyes 
on  his  friends.  Then  he  drew  a  gasping  breath. 

"  Ah,"  cried  he,  "  how  many  days  has  this  been 
choking  me !  He  was  my  chief,  my  master,  and 
not  even  to  you,  Spencer,  could  I  say  one  word 
against  him  !  Cur  !  tiger  !  pretentious  upstart ! 
beast !  fool !  cuckoo  !  tyrant !  hypocrite  !  bully ! 
the  gilded  soldier  who  never  saw  a  fight  but 
through  a  spy-glass !  the  legislator  who  is  the 
first  to  break  all  laws  of  God  and  man  !  stern 
reformer  of  harmless  liberties  !  moralist  who  sub- 
dues his  vile  passions  .  .  .  with  a  harem  !  I  have 
done  with  him  —  Heaven  be  praised  !  Oh,  it  does 
one  good  to  have  it  out  at  last." 

Upon  this  Count  Neuberg  resumed  operations ; 
wrenching  apart  a  refractory  roll  of  fastenings,  he 
tore  his  dolman  off,  and  sent  it  to  rejoin  the  cloak. 

Spencer,  recovering  from  the  sudden  onslaught, 


Young  April  387 

began  to  question  his  friend  anxiously,  yet  unable 
to  repress  his  laughter. 

"  Gustaf,"  said  he,  "  in  God's  name  what  folly 
are  you  about  now  ?  " 

At  this  question,  the  other  became  all  at  once 
liberally  sarcastic. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  he,  "  your  Wise  Philosophy 
would  reserve  for  itself  the  right  of  committing 
follies.  You  had  your  hour  this  morning  when 
you  slapped  that  fellow's  cheek,  and  you  mean  to 
give  yourself  a  further  relaxation  this  evening 
behind  your  pistol.  But  I  —  I,  who  am  no 
Philosopher,  am  to  swallow  everything,  and  con- 
tinue to  wear  the  badge  of  the  man  who  has 
planned  against  me  the  deepest  wrong,  and 
worked  to  my  dishonour  as  well  as  to  that  of 
my  friend.  Spencer,  you  are  a  fraud  —  a  regular 
fraud  :  I  have  known  it  a  long  time.  Your 
speech,  my  friend,  may  be  that  of  the  wisest  of 
platonists,  but  your  actions  are  those  of  the  most 
hot-blooded  mortal  fool  that  ever  ran  the  earth. 
As  for  me,  I  am  a  plain  man  and  act  as  such. 
That  uniform  burnt  me  like  the  shirt  of  Nessus  ; 
I  have  done  with  it.  I  gave  him  my  sword  first ; 
I  laid  it  on  his  table  without  a  word.  Then  — 
then  I  spoke,  and  for  once  a  King  has  heard  a 
man's  true  opinion  of  him." 


388  Young  April 

"  Heavens  !  "  interrupted  Rochester,  who  had 
not  been  a  month  in  the  King's  capital  without 
gathering  some  idea  of  his  special  system  of 
paternal  government,  "  you  will  be  thrown  into 
prison  for  lese  majest6  as  sure  as  fate  ;  and  did 
you  forget  the  meeting  this  evening  ?  " 

"  Prison !  "  said  Neuberg,  with  a  look  upon  his 
face  that  Rochester  had  never  seen  there  before. 
"  The  Emperor's  cousin  is  not  kept  in  prison  by  a 
German  Confederation  Kinglet." 

This  revelation  of  Neuberg's  standing  caused  so 
much  amazement  to  the  young  Englishman,  who 
all  through  their  acquaintance  had  been  so  con- 
scious of  his  own  eminent  social  superiority  over 
a  mere  foreign  Count,  and  this  amazement  was  so 
openly  stamped  upon  his  face,  that  Spencer  burst 
out  laughing. 

"  You  were  not  aware,  then,"  said  he,  "  that  our 
Gustaf  is  a  son  of  the  late  Emperor's  daughter, 
and  that  this  hot  blood  of  his  is  half  '  Royal  and 
Imperial '  ?  What  of  it  ?  Does  that  make  any 
difference  in  the  madcap  we  know  ?  " 

But  Rochester,  though  he  hastened,  flushing,  to 
disclaim  any  sentiment  but  that  of  immaterial 
surprise,  was  nevertheless  aware  that  he  was  gaz- 
ing on  the  ex-Guardsman  with  quite  different 
eyes.  He  felt  conscious  that  he  himself  could  not 


Young  April  389 

have  kept  so  important  an  element  of  his  person- 
ality for  half  a  day  from  the  knowledge  of  his 
friends  —  felt  a  shamed  recognition  of  a  breed- 
ing vastly  superior  to  his  own.  Neuberg  had  at- 
tempted no  deliberate  concealment ;  it  had  simply 
never  occurred  to  him  to  talk  about  his  Imperial 
connection,  .and  all  the  unconventionality  of  his 
behaviour,  all  the  Spartan  simplicity,  the  heedless 
jocularity,  that  the  Duke  had  hitherto  regarded 
with  toleration  not  unmixed  with  disdain,  now 
seemed  to  him  proofs  of  a  conception  of  aristocratic 
manliness  of  which  he  had  not  even  dreamed. 

Where  Rochester  would  have  hesitated  in  fear 
of  lowering  himself,  Neuberg  would  plunge  in, 
serene  in  the  conviction  that  whatever  he  chose 
to  do  must  be  correct. 

"  Gustaf,"  said  Spencer  again,  "  in  God's  name 
what  are  you  about  now  ?  " 

The  scion  of  the  House  of  Austria  had,  after 
this  slight  relaxation,  returned  with  energy  to  his 
former  proceedings.  The  remaining  boot  had 
been  with  great  difficulty  removed,  and  he  now 
was  laying  hands  upon  the  buckskin  breeches  that 
fitted  him  so  neatly. 

"  If  you  think,"  snarled  he,  looking  up  vindic- 
tively, "  that  I  will  keep  on  a  stitch,  a  thread,  of 
this  livery " 


39O  Young  April 

Spencer  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  a  smile, 
went  into  his  bedroom,  and  returned  with  his  own 
dressing-gown  in  one  hand  and  the  morocco  slip- 
pers in  another. 

"Here,  you  lunatic!"  said  he;  and  Neuberg, 
peeling  the  condemned  buckskin  from  his  legs, 
stood  a  second  a  splendid  figure,  every  iron  muscle 
defined  in  his  close  riding-drawers,  and  swung  his 
arms  about  ecstatically. 

"Free!"  cried  he;  "finished  with!  God  be 
praised!  and  damn  him!  "  Then  he  enfolded  him- 
self in  Spencer's  voluminous  garment,  thrust  his 
feet  into  the  red  leather,  looked  from  one  to 
the  other  of  his  friends  with  his  own  good  smile, 
dropped  into  the  armchair,  made  a  long  arm  for 
Spencer's  pipe,  and  called  out  cheerily  :  "  Now 
you  send  Mark  to  my  house  for  my  civil  garb  — 
and,  stop!  let  him  fetch  on  his  way  back  a  few 
measures  of  March  beer." 


XL 

"  The  King  hath  dispossessed  himself  of  us. 
We  will  not  line  his  thin  bestained  cloak 
With  our  pure  honours." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

THERE  was,  a  mile  outside  the  town  gates,  a  little 
outlying  powder-magazine,  recently  constructed 
upon  the  latest,  most  approved  system,  and  there- 
fore jealously  guarded  from  lay  trespassers.  Its 
outer  ditch  was  trimmed,  turfed,  and  sheltered. 
It  was  an  ideal  recess  for  a  little  affair  of  honour. 

In  the  golden  evening  light  the  shadow  of  a 
certain  group  fell  long  and  black  upon  the  sward 
as  they  went  through  a  set  of  grave  manoeuvres 
with  as  much  precision  and  apparent  placidity  as 
if  they  were  carrying  out  some  solemn  pavane. 

The  simultaneous  sound  of  two  shots  that  rang 
out  in  the  still  air  only  disturbed  a  flight  of  set- 
tling rooks,  and  evoked  the  imprudent  curiosity 
of  a  flying  sentry,  who,  at  sight  of  the  officer's 
uniform,  dared  not  interrupt  his  tramp. 

The  long  shadows  had  not  grown  another  Inch 
when  three  figures  in  dark  civilian  clothes  quietly 
39i 


392  Young  April 

took  their  way  back  again  to  the  town,  while  the 
last  rays  of  the  sun  splashed  against  the  brilliant 
uniforms  of  the  other  four  whom  they  left  in 
possession  of  the  field  —  one  stretched  at  full 
length  upon  the  sod,  another  bending  over  him 
with  a  glittering  case  by  his  side,  the  remaining 
two  earnestly  conversing  together. 

There  was  a  certain  gravity  on  the  faces  of  the 
homeward-bound ;  they  talked  in  low  voices,  as 
men  do  under  the  influence  of  a  solemn  occur- 
rence. 

"Your  ball  is  in  his  hip,  Michael,"  said  Neuberg. 
"I  merely  gave  a  look  at  him,  but,  as  I  live, 
Sachs  will  never  ride  again." 

"  How  horribly  he  cursed  !  "  said  Rochester, 
who  could  hardly  control  his  shaking  limbs  suffi- 
ciently to  enable  him  to  proceed  at  Spencer's  side, 
and  who,  ashamed  of  his  weakness  beside  these 
two  tranquil  men  whom  no  retrospective  emotion 
seemed  to  influence,  tried  to  conceal  it  under  a 
pale  joke.  "  Your  performance  of  this  morning, 
Neuberg,  was  nothing  to  it." 

"  Ay,"  said  Spencer,  "  he  has  not  even  the  fight- 
ing-man's temperament,  but  let  himself  be  so 
possessed  with  fury  that  he  could  not  regulate 
his  eyesight,  and  shot  so  wide  that  I  did  not  even 
hear  his  bullet  fly." 


Young  April  393 

"  He  is  a  ruined  man,"  said  Neuberg  ;  "  for  the 
King  will  never  forgive  him,  not  only  for  having 
missed  you,  but  for  having  been  hit  himself. 
Your  ball  would  have  been  more  merciful  had  it 
sped  through  heart  or  brain." 

"  Nay,"  said  Spencer,  and  his  placid  face  was 
crossed  by  a  momentary  bitterness,  "he  has  at 
least  deserved  a  pension.  Who  knows,  perhaps 
his  very  infirmity  may  make  him  the  more  useful 
man  by-and-by?  Such  men  as  Sachs  can  never 
long  be  out  of  their  master's  favour." 

He  halted,  and  looked  across  at  the  town,  dark- 
spired  against  the  rosy  sky.  Lazily  moving  like 
the  wings  of  a  great  bird,  the  Royal  Standard  rose 
and  fell  above  the  glittering  roof  of  the  Palace. 
Around  them  lay  the  fertile  lands  bathed  in  the 
evening  peace,  and  the  scent  of  the  bean-blossoms 
and  the  thousand  other  savours  of  the  teeming 
earth  hung  in  the  air. 

"  It  is  a  fair  kingdom,"  said  Spencer ;  "  but  he 
will  lose  it  all  —  mark  me,  Neuberg,  we  shall  see 
it,  and  you,  Duke,  if  from  your  fair  great  home 
in  England  you  care  to  heed  the  sound  of  the 
little  falling  throne  —  he  will  lose  it,  he  will  lose 
it  through  this  very  weakness,  this  vice,  that  has 
this  day  lost  for  him  the  friendship  of  such  men 
as  Gustaf  and  myself." 


394  Young  April 

His  face,  in  the  red  glow,  seemed  touched  with 
something  of  a  prophet's  inspiration  ;  his  compan- 
ions were  struck  into  musing,  and  they  proceeded 
and  passed  through  the  city  gates  without  another 
word  exchanged. 

At  Spencer's  door  they  parted. 

"  I  do  not  intend,"  said  the  Philosopher,  "  that 
anyone  should  suffer  for  me  ;  we  must,  therefore, 
hence  from  the  capital  with  as  little  delay  as 
possible.  For  a  little  way,"  he  said  to  the  Duke, 
smiling,  "  the  threads  of  our  fate  are  still  enwoven. 
To-morrow  we  three  must  part  —  I  to  Paris, 
Neuberg  to  Vienna,  you  to  England.  But  get 
you  to  your  packing,  and  you  to  yours,  Neu- 
berg." 

"  I  ?  "  said  Neuberg,  "  I  am  going  to  Eva  I  " 
He  started  off  running. 

"  I  will  have  the  travelling-coach  at  your  door 
at  ten  o'clock,"  Spencer  called  after  him.  "Be 
ready." 

"I  will  be  so,"  said  the  Duke,  who  did  not 
relish  the  idea  of  coming  to  explanations  with  the 
minions  of  the  King's  law. 


XLI 

"  0  my  lord,  my  lord,  the  sheriff,  with  a  most  monstrous 
watch,  is  at  the  door." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

His  GRACE'S  packing  was  not  a  proceeding 
which  should  have  consumed  much  time,  for  a 
young  man's  travelling  paraphernalia,  even  be 
he  something  of  a  dandy,  is  of  the  nature  of 
things  soon  disposed  of.  But,  wishing  to  be 
alone,  and  therefore  setting  Hans  about  his  mas- 
ter's business  in  the  adjoining  rooms,  the  Duke 
found  himself  folding  so  many  memories,  bitter 
and  sweet,  among  his  fine  garments,  and  laying 
so  many  dead  hopes  and  joys  at  the  bottom  of  his 
trunk,  that  before  he  could  draw  a  strap  the  night 
had  fully  fallen. 

The  portmanteau  was  buckled  at  length; 
wrapped  in  a  many-caped  travelling-coat,  his  chin 
sunk  inside  the  high  collar,  his  hands  lost  in  the 
great  cuffs,  Rochester  sat  on  the  edge  of  the 
bulging  leather  flank,  and,  by  the  light  of  a  little 
candle,  paused  in  melancholy  reverie  before  tak- 
395 


396  Young  April 

ing  his  last  farewell  of  those  four  walls  that  had 
seen  so  much  of  his  life  in  so  short  a  time,  and, 
with  them,  his  farewell  of  an  epoch  whereof,  after 
all,  now  that  it  was  irrevocably  over,  even  the 
sorrow  held  a  subtle  sweetness.  It  was  the  thir- 
tieth day  of  his  allotted  moon  of  folly. 

He  was  aroused  by  the  rumble  of  a  carriage  on 
the  cobble-stones  without,  the  clatter  and  tramp 
of  heavy  feet  on  the  pavement,  followed  by  a 
knock  at  the  outer  door  which  vibrated  through 
the  house. 

"  Spencer's  coach  already,"  thought  he  at  first ; 
then  started  up  to  listen. 

There  approached  rapidly  the  loud  rhythm  of 
martial  steps  upon  the  wooden  stairs,  and  an 
extraordinary  atmosphere  of  agitation,  a  kind  of 
unformed  rumour,  penetrated  even  behind  his 
closed  doors.  "  The  police  ! "  whispered  his  quick 
wits. 

The  tramping  feet  invaded  the  next  room  ; 
rough,  overbearing  voices  arose  questioning,  and 
that  of  Hans  replying  in  surly  negation. 

"  Ah,  Jemine,  hide  yourself ;  the  gendarmes 
are  after  you  !  "  came  a  frightened  whisper  behind 
the  listener  ;  and,  wheeling  round,  Rochester  saw 
that  in  the  aperture  of  the  passage  door  the  land- 
lady's daughter  stood  looking  in  upon  him  with 


Young  April  397 

round  face  bleached  and  starting  eyes  full  of 
womanly,  desperate  pity. 

The  whisper  ended  in  a  screech  :  a  large  white- 
gloved  hand  suddenly  appeared  round  her  comfort- 
able waist,  and  her  place  was  instantly  usurped  by 
the  green  and  black  form  of  a  gigantic  gendarme, 
who  strode  pompously  into  the  room,  clapped  the 
Duke  on  the  shoulder,  and  apprehended  him  in  the 
name  of  the  King. 

Rochester's  first  impulse  of  angry  resistance 
was  promptly  quenched  by  the  vision  of  a  second 
warrior  of  the  same  kidney,  who  now  entered  upon 
him  by  the  other  door,  and  by  the  further  sight 
of  two  others  on  the  landing  with  hand  on  sword, 
at  attention,  ready  to  enforce  the  majesty  of  the 
law. 

As  any  one  of  these,  judging  by  the  weight  of 
the  hand  upon  his  arm,  could  have  disposed  of  his 
own  slight  person  in  an  instant,  Rochester's  British 
sense  of  humour  came  to  help  him  to  meet  his  fate 
philosophically. 

With  a  slight,  mocking  smile,  he  professed  him- 
self, in  his  neatest  German,  prepared  to  yield 
himself  peaceably  to  their  request ;  but  he  would 
be  grateful,  he  added,  to  be  informed  of  the 
charge  brought  against  him,  an  Englishman  of 
rank. 


398  Young  April 

"  You  will  be  told  in  due  time,"  returned  the 
officer  stolidly,  in  his  broad  Saxon.  "  Forward  — 
close  up  in  rear  —  march  !  " 

Rochester,  taking  the  beaver  which  was  thrust 
into  his  grasp  with  as  fine  an  air  as  if  it  had  been 
obsequiously  handed,  clapped  it  at  a  knowing 
angle  upon  his  red  curls,  and  folded  his  arms. 

"  Lead  on,  sir,"  said  he  majestically  ;  "  you  see 
that  I  am  ready." 

The  two  gendarmes  closed  up  behind  him  ;  the 
two  others  on  the  landing  preceded.  Between 
them  the  Englishman  stepped  with  measured 
paces.  In  the  hall  he  crossed,  with  condescending 
glance,  the  woe -stricken  countenance  of  the  land- 
lady, and  as  much  as  could  be  seen  behind  an 
uplifted  apron  of  the  convulsed  visage  of  her 
middle-aged  daughter. 

But  when  he  found  the  front-door  guarded  out- 
side by  two  more  uniformed  giants,  drawn  sword 
in  hand,  his  fine  dignity  fairly  deserted  him,  and 
be  laughed  aloud.  He  was  marched,  still  laugh- 
ing, into  the  carriage,  packed,  as  well  as  might 
be,  between  the  legs  and  scabbards  of  three  of  his 
escort ;  two  others  mounted  behind,  and  the  last 
gendarme  sprang  up  beside  the  coachman. 

"  I  see,"  said  the  prisoner  to  the  occupier  of  the 
seat  next  him,  as  this  warlike  cartload  moved  off 


Young  April  399 

heavily,  "  that  you  are  extremely  careful  in  your 
proceedings." 

The  man,  rigid  with  the  sense  of  his  official 
importance,  dimly  perceived  a  sarcastic  flavour  in 
this  speech ;  he  frowned,  and,  by  the  light  of  the 
lamp  that  flashed  in  upon  them  as  they  rumbled 
on,  Rochester  saw  the  chief's  portentous  dis- 
pleasure reflected  upon  the  countenances  of  his 
subordinates  opposite. 

For  a  while  Rochester  laughed  on,  earnestly 
wishing  for  Neuberg  or  Spencer  or  Eva  to  enjoy 
the  joke  with  him.  But  it  is  poor  fun  laughing 
alone,  and  his  face  was  quite  grave  again  by  the 
time  they  reached  their1  destination,  which  was  in 
a  very  short  time,  it  being  an  adjunct  to  the  Palace 
of  Justice. 

Here  the  delinquent  was  brought  through  several 
offices,  confronted  with  divers  officials,  questioned, 
registered,  ticketed,  but,  with  truly  Teutonic  arro- 
gance, was  refused  all  explanatory  answer  to  his 
own  reasonable  inquiries.  Finally,  he  was  ushered 
into  an  apartment  which  seemed  to  be  a  kind  of 
preliminary  station  of  arrest,  and  which  looked 
more  like  a  guard-room  than  an  actual  prison.  It 
was  large  and  airy,  whitewashed,  stone-flagged, 
clean,  and  not  ill-lit.  At  each  end  was  a  row  of 
plank  beds ;  down  the  centre  a  long  wooden  table 


4OO  Young  April 

and  benches ;  upon  one  side  a  stove,  before  which, 
on  wooden  stools,  were  seated  two  gendarmes, 
smoking  their  villainous  kanaster  and  conversing 
affably  with  each  other.  As  Rochester  passed  in, 
a  chubby-cheeked  sentry  inside  the  door  gazed 
earnestly  at  him  with  guileless  peasant  eyes. 

The  men  by  the  fire  nodded  and  wished  him 
good-evening,  and  with  a  certain  good-humoured 
roughness  offered  him  a  stool  in  the  warmth. 
But  Rochester,  who  amongst  his  qualities  had  not 
that  of  geniality  with  his  inferiors,  declined  with 
haughty  courtesy,  walked  to  the  end  of  the 
wooden  table,  and  took  his  place  upon  the  bench. 
Here  he  sat  in  moody  reflection,  while  the  yellow- 
faced  clock  upon  the  wall  ticked  loudly  a  long 
half-hour.  As  the  minutes  went  by,  the  young 
Duke  became  once  more  a  deeply-injured  indi- 
vidual. 

He  was  already  following  in  vision,  with  incon- 
ceivable bitterness  of  heart,  along  the  broad  dark 
road  that  he  knew  so  well,  the  flight  of  a  coach 
wherein  were  snugly  ensconced  Spencer  and  Neu- 
berg,  when  sounds  without  and  an  interested  stir 
within  brought  him  back  to  things  of  actuality. 

Then  came  the  cadence  of  a  footstep  that  struck 
a  familiar  ring,  of  a  well-known  voice,  and  Neu- 
berg,  bringing  about  him  a  whole  atmosphere  of 


Young  April  401 

outside  freshness  and  joyous  unconcern,  entered 
the  place  of  detention  as  if  it  were  a  ball-room. 

But  that  his  friend  did  not  hither  come  of  his 
own  choice  was  evidenced,  Rochester  noticed,  by 
the  fact  that  he  was  accompanied  by  the  very 
same  posse  that  had  conducted  a  ducal  prisoner 
into  these  precincts.  These,  although  he  had  met 
with  such  scant  ceremony  at  their  hands,  per- 
formed their  office  to  the  new  prisoner  with  every 
appearance  of  the  profoundest,  not  to  say  the 
most  apologetic,  respect. 

The  gendarmes  by  the  fire  stood  up  stiff  and 
saluted,  and  the  arresting-party  withdrew,  upon 
Neuberg's  careless  nod,  as  humbly  as  inferiors 
dismissed. 

"  Ah  !  "  gaily  cried  the  ex-Guardsman,  "  you 
have  a  fire,  I  see,  and  right :  the  night  is  chilly. 
Sit  down,  sit  down  !  Go  on  smoking ;  I  wish  I 
had  one  too  !  What  ? "  here  his  eyes,  sweeping 
round  the  room  carelessly,  became  suddenly  fixed 
and  steely.  "  What  ?  "  cried  he  again,  and  gave 
a  joyous  shout,  "my  little  Rochester  —  this  is  luck 
indeed !  Now,  by  my  faith,  all  that  is  wanted  is 
our  Spencer !  " 

Rochester  rose,  smiling,  his  ill-temper  melting 
away  before  the  other's  sunny  humour,  and  Neu- 
berg  seized  him  by  the  hand  and  shook  it  as  if 


4O2  Young  April 

they  had  not  met  for  years.  To  him  the  meeting 
was  pleasure  unalloyed  and  required  an  extra 
demonstration. 

"  They  took  me,"  said  he,  "  but  five  yards  from 
Eva's  doorsteps,  the  rogues  !  My  blessed  Eva  ! 
They  nabbed  you  neatly  at  home,  I  suppose?  I 
wonder  how  they  will  net  good  Spencer  !  He 
cannot  fail  us  to-night  —  he,  the  very  head  and 
front  of  this  offending.  Well,  it  is  a  poor  heart 
that  never  rejoices.  I  am  as  hungry  as  a  hunter  ! 
Heyda,  Feldwebel,  is  it  the  rule  to  starve  your 
miserable  prisoners  in  these  dungeons  ?  " 

With  an  obsequious  grin,  the  man  ran  forward. 
Neuberg  took  a  gold  piece  from  his  pocket,  spun 
it  on  the  table,  and  pointed  to  it  with  his  fore- 
finger. 

"  Your  honour,"  said  the  man,  "  can  be  supplied 
with  what  he  likes,  from  where  he  likes." 

"JEvviva!"  cried  the  officer.  "  Meseemeth," 
he  went  on,  once  more  in  English,  turning  to  his 
friend,  "  something  of  the  description  of  a  fine 
capon,  golden  and  hot  from  the  spit,  a  spring 
salad,  a  square  of  Strasburg  pie,  a  brace  of  flagons 
of  Bordeaux  wine  to  wash  it  all  down,  would  tend 
to  lighten  the  gloom  of  this  durance  vile.  Eh, 
my  Lord  Duke  ?  " 

The  Duke,  as  Neuberg  spoke,  felt  a  certain  new 


Young  April  403 

titillation  within  him  that  confirmed  the  words. 
Dignity  is  seldom  proof  against  appetite. 

Thereupon  the  Austrian  expounded  the  order 
to  the  amiable  guardian  of  their  incarceration. 

"Double  portion,"  said  he,  and  tossed  the 
coin.  "Stay  —  treble,"  drawing  a  companion 
piece;  "keep  the  change,  friend,  but  treat  us 
well.  Send  to  the  Silver  Lion  :  tell  them  it  is 
for  me,  and  let  them  look  to  it.  Now  march ! 

"  Spencer,"  proceeded  the  speaker,  and  disposed 
himself  sprawling  on  the  bench  in  the  most  com- 
fortable attitude  its  uncompromising  hardness 
would  permit  of  —  "Spencer  will  be  here  in  the 
nick  of  time ;  I  only  hope  that  he  may  not  con- 
sider it  due  to  his  Philosophy  to  break  a  head 
or  two  upon  the  way.  That  would  complicate 
matters,  and  might  lead  to  his  solitary  confine- 
ment. Now,  that  would  spoil  all  the  fun.  You 
and  I,  being  ordinary  humans,  came  like  lambs, 
of  course,  but  there  is  no  knowing  how  these  great 
minds  will  disport  themselves  in  such  emergen- 
cies." Then,  suddenly  jumping  up,  but  without 
a  change  of  tone,  "  Nay,  yonder  he  comes  I " 
said  he. 

Spencer  was  standing  in  the  doorway,  and  the 
sentry  was  gaping,  as  never  he  had  gaped  before, 
at  the  great  figure  in  the  folds  of  the  black  trav- 


404  Young  April 

elling-cloak,  at  the  majestic,  outlandish  head. 
The  Philosopher's  brow  was  unruffled,  his  de- 
meanour, if  grave,  was  serene ;  his  face  lighted 
up  for  an  instant  with  pleased  surprise  at  Neu- 
berg's  Shakespearian  shout  of  "  All  hail !  "  But 
the  surprise  was  transient,  and  the  pleasure  alone 
remained,  placidly  enthroned,  as  he  took  a  seat 
beside  his  friends. 

"  So  our  journey  is  put  off,"  said  he ;  "  well, 
there  is  nothing  like  a  cheerful  acceptance  of  the 
inevitable." 

"  Bravo  !  "  cried  Neuberg,  "  I  was  afraid  that 
the  maxim  to-night  might  have  been,  on  the  con- 
trary, that  the  duty  of  the  free-born  man  is  to 
resist  tyranny."  He  gave  a  light  wave  in  the 
direction  of  the  King's  bust,  which,  crowned  with 
a  withered  chaplet  of  laurels,  looked  down  on 
them  in  grimy  severity  from  over  the  door. 

Here  any  dissertation  on  Spencer's  part,  had  he 
been  disposed  to  deliver  one,  would  have  had  to 
give  way  to  more  important  business,  for  the  door 
was  again  opened,  to  admit,  this  time,  two  waiters, 
carrying  a  heavy  basket  between  them. 

And  presently,  upon  a  snowy,  red-bordered 
cloth,  sundry  covered  dishes  and  dusty  bottles 
were  disposed  in  battle  array  in  front  of  smiling, 
expectant  faces  and  brilliant  empty  glasses.  Deli- 


Young  April  405 

cate  and  unwonted  savours  began  to  predominate 
in  the  neighbouring  air. 

"May  good  digestion  wait  on  appetite  and 
health  on  both !  "  cried  Neuberg,  drawing  the 
largest  dish  before  him,  and  seizing  the  carving- 
knife  and  fork. 

"  For  victims  of  heartless  tyranny,"  said  Spen- 
cer, and  helped  himself  to  a  plateful  of  delicate 
salad,  wherein  the  subtle  fragrance  of  the  chive 
had  not  been  omitted,  "  no  one  can  say  that  there 
are  not  compensations." 

"For  my  part,"  said  Neuberg,  "I  think  it 
is  infinitely  better  than  rumbling  over  stony 
roads." 

"  At  least,  as  you  said,  it  is  a  poor  heart,"  said 
the  Duke,  catching  the  infectious  humour  of  the 
moment,  "  that  never  rejoices  ;  and  of  course  your 
cousin,  the  Emperor,  will  see  you  out  of  the 
scrape,  and  we  shall  follow,  hanging  on  to  your 
coat-tails." 

He  had  his  little  point  of  malice  in  this  speech. 
Then,  lifting  his  glass  :  "  Let  us  drink,"  cried  he, 
"  first  of  all  to  our  deliverer,  His  Royal  Imperial 
Majesty,"  and  cast  a  contemptuous  look  at  the 
bust. 

"  Hoch,  hoch,  hoch  !  "  cried  Neuberg,  who  had 
not  swallowed  a  mouthful  of  wine  yet,  but  who 


406  Young  April 

was  already  exceedingly  elevated.  The  three 
raised  their  glasses  and  clinked  them  together. 

But  there  is  many  a  slip  'twixt  the  cup  and 
the  lip,  and  that  first  beaker  of  ruby  wine  for 
which  Rochester's  lips  were  already  opening,  the 
song  of  which  through  his  veins  his  heart  was 
already  anticipating,  was  destined  to  reach 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other. 

Strange  noises  arose  without  —  noises  of  scuffle, 
of  protest,  of  lament  and  objurgation.  The  door 
burst  open,  the  noises  waxed  to  painful  intensity. 
Then  a  new  prisoner  was  ushered  in,  perforce, 
upon  the  scene  —  a  very  recalcitrant  captive, 
whom  two  officers  of  police  held  by  elbow  and 
shoulder  and  whom  a  third  propelled  in  the  rear. 

"  Too  bad  not  to  leave  us  in  peace,"  cried  Neu- 
berg  angrily,  while,  with  a  dismay  as  unreason- 
able as  it  was  unconscious,  Rochester  recognized 
amid  the  clamour  the  accents  of  a  voice  hideously 
familiar. 

"  The  English  Ambassador  shall  know ;  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  shall  be  informed  of  this 
outrage ;  England  has  gone  to  war  for  less ! 
Everyone  who  has  had  a  hand  in  this  will  re- 
gret it  deeply.  I  will  write  to  the  Times.  Let 
the  King  beware  !  I  will  write  to  the  Times. 
Robbed,  insulted,  mishandled,  a  dignitary  of  the 


Young  April  407 

Established   Church   of  England.     Have  a  care, 
sir  !     The  Archbishop  of   Canterbury,  the  Duke 

of  Rochester " 

With  fine  linen  sadly  tossed  and  stained,  sable 
broadcloth  torn  and  displaced,  ambrosial  curls 
lank  upon  a  heated  brow,  the  portly  form  of 
a  most  venerable-looking  if  dishevelled  elderly 
gentleman,  urged  by  a  sacrilegious  knee  into 
an  unwilling  trot,  and  then  cruelly  left  to  its 
own  devices,  tottered  to  a  halt  at  the  table,  and 
stood  rolling  a  wild  eyeball  upon  the  extraordi- 
nary scene  that  met  his  gaze. 


XLII 

"  Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make, 
Nor  iron  bars  a  cage." 

LOVELACE. 

THE  Rev.  Thomas  Smiley  stared  and  passed 
his  hand  across  his  forehead,  streaming  with 
perspiration,  and  stared  again. 

The  events  which  had  so  rapidly  succeeded 
each  other  within  the  last  two  hours  of  his 
existence  had  been  so  unexpected,  so  monstrous 
and  alarming,  what  his  eyes  now  actually  beheld 
seemed  so  fantastic  and  incredible,  that  he  could 
hardly  persuade  himself  he  was  not  in  an  evil 
dream.  Was  this  place,  reeking  with  tobacco- 
smoke  and  the  fumes  of  wine  and  feasting,  a 
tavern-room  or  a  prison  ?  These  feasters  with 
their  uplifted  glasses,  these  rollickers,  whom  he 
vaguely  perceived  to  be  gentlemen,  holding  him 
now  under  searching  eyes,  who  might  they  be  ? 

Smiley  turned  to  look  from  the  sentry,  who 
had  resumed  his  march  before  the  door,  to  the 
quiet  pair  of  officials  smoking  before  the  stove, 
408 


Young  April  409 

met  on  each  side  the  gaze  of  placid  amazement, 
and  returned  again,  increasingly  distraught,  to 
the  contemplation  of  the  supper-party.  This 
time  his  jaw  dropped.  He  staggered :  if  not 
dreaming,  was  he  mad? 

"  Edward  !  "  he  gasped ;  beheld  his  truant  pupil 
rise  to  his  feet  with  the  well-remembered  scowl, 
upsetting  as  he  did  so  his  brimming  glass  ;  and, 
unless  the  divine's  ears  deceived  him,  the  words, 
"  Smiley,  by  thunder  !  Devil  take  him  ! "  floated 
in  the  air. 

The  parson  tottered  yet  a  few  paces  forward, 
and  stood  supporting  himself  against  the  table. 

There  was,  in  deed  and  in  truth,  Edward 
Warrender,  Duke  of  Rochester.  He  knew  the 
very  cloak  that  hung  upon  those  rebellious 
shoulders,  the  beaver  that  lay  but  an  inch  from 
his  hand. 

The  strain  of  the  situation  was  intense,  but  it 
was  mercifully  broken  by  one  who  seemed  to  be 
the  eldest  of  the  feasting-party. 

"As  this  gentleman  seems  to  be  an  acquaint- 
ance of  yours,  Duke,"  said  Spencer,  half  rising  in 
his  seat  as  he  spoke,  "  will  you  not  introduce  him 
and  beg  him  to  join  us  at  supper  ?  " 

Rochester  made  a  desperate  effort  for  the  com- 
mand of  the  position. 


4IO  Young  April 

"  Certainly,"  said  he.  "  Excuse  me,  gentlemen. 
I  am  surprised  myself  by  this  unexpected  appear- 
ance. How  do,  Smiley  ?  My  domestic  chaplain, 
sirs.  Mr.  Smiley — Count  Neuberg.  Mr.  Spencer 
—Mr.  Smiley." 

"  Oh,  Edward,  my  dear  boy !  "  said  Mr.  Smiley, 
and,  staggering  round  the  table,  showed  a  disposi- 
tion at  once  to  weep  and  to  clasp  the  prodigal  in 
his  arms.  "  Edward,  Edward,  the  sleepless  nights, 
the  days  of  agony  !  Gentlemen,  excuse  this  emo- 
tion :  I  am  this  young  gentleman's  tutor — guar- 
dian ;  I  may  say  I  stand  to  him  in  loco  parentis. 
I  have  been  in  the  deepest  anxiety  concerning 
him."  Here  the  worthy  clergyman's  watering 
eye  was  fain  to  shift  itself  from  his  pupil's  fero- 
cious glare,  and  fall  appealingly  upon  Neuberg; 
but,  finding  that  individual  sunk  in  silent  laugh- 
ter, it  was  turned  in  despair  to  Spencer's  counte- 
nance, upon  the  perfect  gravity  of  which  it  rested, 
at  length,  with  relief. 

Addressing  the  latter  then,  Mr.  Smiley  pro- 
ceeded with  more  confidence.  "  Am  I  right, 
sir,"  said  he,  "  in  believing  you  to  be  a  country- 
man? You  may  perhaps  have  heard  of  me  by 
name  — •  Smiley  —  the  Rev.  Thomas  Smiley,  late 
of  Wadham  College,  Oxford.  My  life  has  been 
devoted  to  the  education  of  the  youth  of  tha 
aristocracy." 


Young  April  411 

Emboldened  by  the  sound  of  his  own  voice  and 
by  the  apparently  deferential  attention  it  elicited, 
"  Delightful  task,"  he  proceeded,  with  something 
of  his  old  pomposity,  "  to  rear  the  tender  thought 
—  to  teach  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot." 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha !  "  cried  Neuberg,  his  suppressed 
cachinnation  bursting  out  with  all  the  violence 
of  reaction.  "Ha,  ha!  my  good  sir;  that  is 
exactly  what  our  friend  here,  Mr.  Spencer,  has 
been  doing  this  very  evening.  You  are  evidently 
kindred  spirits." 

Bewilderment  crept  again  upon  Smiley's  face. 

"The  foreign  nobleman  seems  pleased  to  be 
facetious,"  he  said  to  Spencer ;  "  but  if,  sir,  you 
are  also  a  guide,  philosopher,  and  friend  of  youth, 
you  will  understand  my  sufferings  when,  with  a 
petulance  which  we  must  excuse  as  belonging  to 
his  years,  this  young  gentleman,  my  charge,  flew 
from  the  guardianship  of  my  encircling  wings, 
having  previously  obtained  from  me  (by  what  I 
can  only  term  subterfuge)  all  my  available 
supplies." 

"Your  supplies?"  echoed  the  prodigal,  with 
withering  scorn.  "  Whose  money,  sir,  was  it  that 
swelled  your  lean  purse?" 

"Your  noble  relatives,  Edward,"  retorted  Mr. 
Smiley  solemnly,  "entrusted  me  with  the  sole 


412  Young  April 

guardianship  and  responsibility  of  yourself  — 
appointed  me,  as  I  might  say,  nurse  to  your 
tender  inexperience  upon  its  first  entrance  upon 
the  ways  of  life,  and  they  provided  me  nobly, 
generously,  with  funds  sufficient  for  my  responsi- 
ble post.  The  funds  were  mine,  Edward  —  mine 
as  your  guardian  —  for  you  are  still  an  infant  in 
the  eyes  of  the  law,  and  as  such  amenable  to 
authority,  and  incompetent  to  act  for  your- 
self." 

"  I  begin  to  fear,"  said  Spencer,  with  mock 
gravity,  "that  we  have  been  sadly  deceived  in 
our  young  friend.  Believe  me,  sir,  we  knew 
nothing  of  this :  we  should  not  have  encouraged 
him  in  these  evil  ways." 

Feeling  greatly  supported  by  the  attitude  of 
his  compatriot,  Mr.  Smiley  became  magnanimous. 

"I  shall  reproach  you  no  more,  Edward,"  said 
he.  " '  Juvenile  vitium  regere  non  posse  impetum.' 
I  never  held  my  young  friend  completely  respon- 
sible for  his  actions :  the  Woman  tempted  him, 
sir  ;  it  is  the  lot  of  man.  No  doubt  he  has  paid 
bitterly  already  for  his  infatuation.  You  your- 
self, who,  as  I  apprehend,  have  chosen  the  same 
vocation  as  myself,  can  conceive  the  anguish  that 
oppressed  my  heart  when  I  found  that  this  pre- 
cious deposit  had  fallen  a  victim  to  the  seductive 


Young-  April 

wiles  of  an  adventuress,  such  as  we  are  especially 
warned  against  by  the  Holy  Scriptures,  a  painted 
Jezebel,  a  singer  of  the  streets,  a  strolling  play- 
acting wanton. Merciful  heavens  !  " 

The  ejaculation  had  barely  escaped  the  lips  of 
the  astonished  parson  before  it  was  strangled  in 
a  scream  of  terror,  for  Neuberg  had  sprung  up 
like  a  tiger,  and  now  faced  him  with  clutching 
hands  outstretched,  as  if  he  would  seize  him  by 
the  throat : 

"  Canting  old  crow,  another  word  against  the 
pride  of  womankind,  and  it  will  be  the  last  you 
shall  ever  speak  !  " 

Unable  in  his  turn  to  restrain  his  laughter, 
Spencer,  aided  by  Rochester,  intervened  between 
the  unhappy  divine  and  the  wrathful  lover. 

The  Duke,  rehabilitated  in  his  own  eyes  by  this 
unexpected  move  of  his  friend's,  was  rapidly  sink- 
ing all  feeling  of  ruffled  mortification  into  that  of 
boyish  mischievousness.  Moreover,  he  had  recol- 
lected, the  flight  of  time  would  soon  place  a 
triumphant  vindication  in  his  own  hands. 

He  helped  with  a  will  to  draw  the  incensed 
officer  away  from  his  quarry,  while  sentry  and 
gendarmes  gazed,  as  on  a  delightful,  if  incom- 
prehensible, entertainment. 

"I  see  how  it  is,"  uttered  Mr.  Smiley  moan- 


414  Young  April 

ingly  to  Spencer  as  soon  as  he  recovered  sufficient 
composure  to  speak.  "  I  see  how  it  is.  I  see  the 
whole  appalling  truth,  the  whole  dreadful  mistake : 
this  is  a  lunatic  asylum,  and  you  are  the  head- 
keeper  I  But  how,  how  has  that  unhappy  boy 
come  hither?" 

Even  Neuberg's  rage  was  not  proof  against  the 
unconscious  humour  of  this  solution  of  the  mys- 
tery. His  great  laugh  rang  out  once  more, 
confirming  Mr.  Smiley's  worst  fears,  and  was 
immediately  joined,  to  the  latter's  horror,  by  the 
laughter  not  only  of  his  reprobate  pupil,  but  by 
that  of  the  only  person  whom  he  had  credited 
with  sanity  besides  himself. 

He  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  brow  and 
covered  his  pale  lips  with  his  hand  to  hide  their 
spasmodic  twitching,  looking  round  with  the 
hopeless  terror  of  the  trapped. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Rochester,  moved  at  last  with  a 
sort  of  compassion  at  the  abject  spectacle  —  "  no, 
Smiley,  do  not  be  frightened.  We  are  not  in  a 
madhouse,  only,  as  far  as  I  can  make  out,  in  the 
arrest-room  of  the  Palace  of  Justice  of  His  Ma- 
jesty the  Ruler  of  this  Kingdom." 

The  tutor  dropped  a  great  sigh  of  relief. 

"And  very  sorry  am  I,  Edward,"  whimpered 
he,  then,  with  a  faint  effort  to  straighten  his 


Young  April  415 

crumpled  form  into  some  sort  of  dignity,  "  to  see 
you  in  such  a  place." 

"  Your  sorrow,  Mr.  Smiley,"  retorted  the  pupil, 
bowing  mockingly,  "  cannot  be  as  great  as  mine 
to  meet  you  here." 

"  Yes,"  put  in  Spencer,  wiping  his  eyes, "  where 
the  nurse  fails  the  infant  may  well  have  tripped." 

Mr.  Smiley  fell  but  from  one  distress  into 
another.  "I  assure  you,  gentlemen,"  said  he, 
babbling  and  stammering  in  his  anxiety  to  excul- 
pate his  character  —  "I  assure  you,  Edward,  noth- 
ing that  I  have  done  has  warranted  this  monstrous, 
this,  I  may  say,  criminal,  interference  with  the 
liberty  of  a  British  subject.  —  No  sooner,  Mr. 
Spencer,  had  I  received  the  necessary  supplies 
from  England  than,  entreated  thereto  by  urgent 
letters  from  this  young  nobleman's  relatives,  I  felt 
myself  bound  to  set  forth  and  reclaim  the  beloved 
wanderer.  When  at  length,  after  divers  vicissi- 
tudes, I  traced  him  to  this  city — only  this  very 
evening  —  I  naturally  applied  at  once  to  the  Chief 
of  Police  for  information.  Here,  sir,  I  was  met 
from  the  first  with  gross  discourtesy,  not  to  say 
brutality,  and,  upon  my  displaying  some  pardon- 
able irritation  and  severity,  coupled  no  doubt  with 
the  unfortunate  circumstance  of  my  having  been 
deprived  of  my  passport "  (here  the  Duke  smiled 


4i 6  Young  April 

cruelly),  "  I  was  accused  of  being  myself  a  sus- 
picious person.  At  last,  sir,  I  lost  my  temper, 
I  confess  it  —  to  be  perfect  is  not  of  humanity  — 
I  lost  my  temper,  and  expressed  my  opinion  of 
a  Ruler  who  could  sanction  such  tyranny  upon 
harmless  and  respectable  travellers  in  terms  more 
explicit  than  polite.  Then  —  oh,  heavens  !  —  I 
was  seized  in  the  most  unconstitutional  manner, 
handed  to  the  charge  of  uniformed  ruffians, 
stripped  of  my  luggage,  my  papers,  my  very 
purse,  dragged  along  the  streets,  forced  into  this 
place,  as  you  have  seen,  where  "  —  here  his  coun- 
tenance assumed  an  expression  of  the  most  undis- 
guised woe  —  "I  not  only  meet  most  unexpectedly 
with  my  unhappy  ward,  but  I  am  most  unde- 
servedly insulted  by  yonder  gentleman,  who  seems 
to  be  his  friend  and  yours,  and  who,  if  he  is  not 
insane,  must  at  least  be  in  liquor." 

"  Count  Neuberg,"  said  Spencer  gravely,  while 
that  volatile  person  was  once  more  overpowered 
by  laughter,  "  conceived  that  those  severe  strict- 
ures of  yours  about  a  certain  fair  traveller  were 
applied  to  a  lady  of  his  acquaintance,  who  is 
respected  and  cherished  by  all  who  know  her. 
That,  of  course,  was  his  mistake,  for  your  lan- 
guage could  not  possibly  have  referred  to  the  lady 
in  question.  But  you  will,  I  trust,  forgive  his 


Young  April  417 

slight   impetuosity  out  of   consideration  for  the 
chivalrous  instinct  that  prompted  it.     Meanwhile 
our  supper  is  growing  cold.     We  are  hungry  men, 
Mr.  Smiley;  will  you  honour  us  and  allow  us  to  t 
proceed  ?  " 

Mr.  Smiley  fumbled  at  his  necktie,  smoothing 
with  fluttering  fingers  his  dishonoured  cloth, 
gazed  dubiously  from  one  to  the  other,  and  hesi- 
tated. He,  too,  was  hungry. 

"  Surely,"  he  began,  "  nothing  could  be  further 
from  my  thoughts  than  to  have  cast  aspersion 
upon  any  lady  known  to  Monsieur  le  Comte." 

"  Well,  sit  down,  reverend  sir,"  said  Neuberg 
impatiently,  "and  set  to." 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,"  said  the  clergyman, 
bowing ;  "  but  duty  first :  an  elucidation  from  my 
ward  of  his  irresponsible  behaviour  is  imperative. 
Edward,  you  cannot  think  me  unreasonable  if 
I  ask  for  a  word  of  private  conversation  with 
you?" 

Rochester,  who  had  now  resumed  his  seat,  coolly 
filled  himself  a  fresh  glass  of  wine,  and,  lifting 
it  in  his  hand,  paused,  with  his  eyes  on  the  clock. 
In  a  few  seconds  the  strokes  of  twelve  rang  out 
into  the  room. 

"  Mr.  Smiley,"  said  the  young  man  then,  "  from 
this  hour  your  tutorship  ends  and  my  indepen- 

2E 


41 8  Young  April 

dence  begins.  It  is  the  first  of  May.  Edward 
me  no  more  Edwards,  if  you  please ;  for  the 
future  I  am  to  you  the  Duke  of  Rochester,  and, 
as  you  behave,  your  patron." 

Smiley  started  as  if  a  bucket  of  cold  water  had 
been  flung  upon  him.  In  the  emotions  and  rapid 
journeyings  of  the  last  days  he  had  forgotten  the 
flight  of  time.  He  moistened  his  lips,  and  twice 
attempted  to  speak ;  then  suddenly  his  back 
curved  into  a  servile  bow. 

"  Your  Grace "  began  he. 

"  Sit  down  and  eat,"  said  the  Duke,  cutting 
him  short.  And  as  Spencer,  with  a  curl  of  sar- 
castic scorn  upon  his  lips,  made  way  for  the 
deposed  and  humbled  guardian,  Rochester  again 
raised  his  glass.  "  Will  you  drink  with  me  upon 
my  coming  of  age,  friends  ?  "  said  he. 

So  eager  was  the  future  Dean  to  be  included  m 
this  favoured  category  that  he  forgot  his  manners, 
and,  seizing  uninvited  upon  a  bottle,  with  a  trem- 
bling hand  poured  himself  a  bumper  in  which  to 
do  honour  to  the  toast. 


XLIII 

"  Therefore  we  banish  you  our  territories." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

NEUBEKG  broke  off  in  the  middle  stave  of  a 
rollicking  soldier-song,  suddenly  aware  that  no 
one  was  listening.  He  tried  all  the  bottles  in 
turn  :  they  had  all  done  their  duty  to  the  last 
drop  of  their  blood. 

"  That  being  the  case,"  said  he  wisely,  "  noth- 
ing remains  but  bed."  He  yawned  a  mighty 
yawn,  and  eyed  sideways  the  row  of  plank  beds. 
—  "Well,  I  have  slept  on  worse." 

He  looked  round  on  his  companions.  Roches- 
ter, with  elbows  propped  on  the  table  and  with 
head  fallen  forward  on  his  hands,  was  already 
half  asleep.  Spencer,  one  of  those  in  whom  gen- 
erous wine  only  stirs  up  the  fundamental  melan- 
choly of  the  dreamer,  was  gazing  across  at  the 
blank  wall,  his  thoughts  far  away  from  the  pres- 
ent scene,  on  God  knows  what  dismal  flight. 
Mr.  Smiley,  as  an  epicure,  had  still  a  glass  of 
419 


420  Young  April 

ruby  to  sip  and  was  sipping  it  with  an  air  of  dig- 
nified and  critical  gravity  which  sat  comically 
enough  on  his  disordered  appearance  and  was  not 
unlike  that  of  some  dissipated  cockatoo. 

Neuberg  was  too  sleepy  to  laugh,  and,  if  truth 
be  told,  he  was  a  little  fuddled,  for  his  fatigue 
had  been  great  and  the  red  wine  potent.  He 
knew,  too,  that  the  fumes  of  that  wine  remain 
long  weighty  upon  the  brain. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  seizing  Rochester  by  the  arm 
—  "  come  to  bed,  you  sleepy  head  !  " 

Rochester,  startled,  sprang  up,  inclined  to  be 
quarrelsome  ;  but,  forgetting  his  purpose  midway 
in  a  yawn,  threw  his  arm  amicably  upon  his 
friend's  shoulder. 

"  Come,  Michael,"  went  on  the  latter ;  "  you 
will  lose  your  beauty  sleep." 

Spencer  cast  a  sad  awakened  eye  upon  him, 
sighed  profoundly,  but  rose  with  the  air  of  a  man 
to  whom  resistance,  however  reasonable,  is  not 
worth  the  trouble. 

"  To  sleep,"  he  murmured  vaguely,  "  perchance 
to  dream.  Life  is  but  a  series  of  dreams.  To 
dream  is  sweet,  but  to  wake  is  bitter." 

Linked  together,  the  three  shaped  their  course 
across  the  flagged  space  —  a  course  which,  under 
the  impulse  of  a  certain  freakishness  on  the  part 


Yotmg  April  421 

of  Neuberg  the  leader,  of  a  certain  vagueness  on 
that  of  Rochester,  and  of  a  certain  inertness  on 
that  of  Spencer,  described  not  a  few  wave-like 
evolutions  before  reaching  its  goal. 

Finding  himself  abandoned,  Mr.  Smiley  hastily 
gulped  his  remaining  mouthful  and  prepared  to 
follow  the  example  of  his  companions. 

Despite  the  fatigues  and  emotions  he  had  un- 
dergone, and  the  fact  that  he  had  secured  per- 
haps a  larger  share  of  the  flowing  bowl  than  any 
that  night,  his  well-seasoned  head  guided  his 
steps  with  great  majesty  to  the  unworthy  couch 
that  awaited  him.  Upon  this  his  form  was  pres- 
ently extended  in  the  only  attitude  compatible 
with  the  roundness  of  its  bulk  and  the  uncom- 
promising exigencies  of  the  planks  beneath.  Ill 
at  ease,  he  lay  like  some  gigantic  bird  in  a  swoon, 
and  slept  and  dreamt  and  groaned  —  and  woke 
and  groaned,  while  next  him,  wide-eyed,  Spencer, 
with  his  hands  crossed  under  his  head,  sighed 
with  the  sadness  of  his  watching  heart.  Further 
down,  as  he  had  fallen,  like  a  child,  with  arms 
limply  cast  apart  and  light  breath,  Rochester 
slumbered  beautiful  in  boyhood ;  and  beyond 
him,  wrapped  in  his  cloak,  Neuberg  breathed 
deep  in  sleep  as  profound  as  a  soldier's  should  be. 


422  Young  April 

"When  upon  the  whitewashed  ceiling  the  gray 
hue  of  dawn  had  given  place  to  the  first  yellow 
streak  of  day,  Neuberg  awoke,  stretched  himself 
like  a  dog,  and  rose.  He  had  not  budged  an  inch 
the  whole  night.  His  companions  were  all  asleep 
still,  even  Spencer  at  last.  But  he,  with  the 
craving  for  fresh  air  and  water  upon  him,  went 
in  quest  of  his  guardians  to  make  interest  for 
both. 

The  good-natured  gendarmes  offered  him  their 
best  yellow  cake  of  scarifying  soap,  a  tin  bason  of 
water,  even  a  razor  and  a  broken  bit  of  looking- 
glass.  Before  their  bars  the  great  windows  were 
opened,  and  the  breath  of  heaven,  and  the  sun- 
shine, and  the  call  of  sparrows  and  swallows, 
came  pouring  into  the  detention-room. 

The  Guardsman  was  very  spruce  by  the  time 
the  Duke  stirred  and  envied  him,  and  fresh  fill- 
ing of  the  tin  bason  was  forthwith  eagerly  de- 
manded. It  was  a  great  chagrin  to  the  young 
man  that  his  smooth  chin  should  yet  show  no 
growth  worthy  of  the  gaoler's  razor ;  but  as  a 
set-off  he  dipped  his  curly  head  into  the  cold 
water  and  emerged  with  every  curl  sparkling, 
like  a  young  god  rising  from  the  dew. 

Spencer  was  shaving  in  his  turn ;  the  other 
two  were  gravely  engaged  in  brushing  each  other, 


Young  April  423 

while  they  discussed  projects  and  probabilities; 
Smiley  still  snored  melodiously  in  the  back- 
ground, when  a  gentleman,  most  military-looking 
under  a  sombre  civilian  attire,  marched  in  upon 
them  through  an  obsequiously  wide-flung  door. 
The  gendarmes  saluted  and  stood  rigidly  at  at- 
tention, and  Neuberg,  wheeling  round,  recognized 
his  acquaintance,  the  Chief  of  the  Police. 

"  Ah,  good-morning,  Baron  !  "  cried  he  jovially. 

"  Good-morning,  Count  Neuberg,"  returned  the 
other,  without  relaxing  from  the  severity  of  his 
official  demeanour.  "This  gentleman,  I  believe, 
is  the  Duke  of  Rochester  ?  Mr.  Spencer,  I  salute 
you.  There  is  yet  another  also,  is  there  not  ?  — 
the  English  pastor  who  arrived  in  the  town  last 
night  in  a  riotous  condition.  Sergeant,  bring  up 
the  fourth  prisoner  in  custody." 

A  sorry  spectacle  was  the  poor  half-awakened 
clergyman,  as  he  took  rank  beside  the  other  three, 
who,  even  to  Spenser  with  his  half-shorn  chin 
and  open  collar,  looked  all  such  high-bred  gentle- 
men. 

"  Sirs,"  said  the  Chief  of  the  Police  then  with 
sonorous  severity,  "His  Majesty  was  pleased  to 
send  for  me  at  an  early  hour  this  morning  to  com- 
municate his  pleasure  with  regard  to  you.  You, 
Mr.  Spencer,  have  broken  the  law  by  fighting  an 


424  Young  April 

unauthorized  duel  and  have  made  yourself  thereby 
liable  to  two  years'  Fortress.  You,  Count  Neu- 
berg,  and  you,  milord,  by  acting  as  seconds  in 
this  affair,  have  likewise  transgressed  against  the 
statutes  :  the  penalty  which  you  have  incurred  is 
six  months'  arrest.  His  Majesty,  however,  mind- 
ful of  the  fact  that  Mr.  Spencer,  and  you  also, 
gentlemen,  are  not  subjects  of  his  own,  and  that 
your  offence,  therefore,  is  attributable,  no  doubt, 
to  ignorance  or  to  misrepresentation,  has  resolved 
to  exercise  his  Royal  right  of  clemency,  and, 
without  bringing  the  matter  to  trial,  to  commute 
your  punishment  to  banishment  from  the  King- 
dom. You  will  please  to  be  ready,  gentlemen,  to 
set  out  for  the  frontier  in  an  hour  from  now.  A 
travelling-coach,  under  charge  of  escort,  will 
attend  here  at  that  time.  Your  goods  will  be 
sent  with  you.  You  are  to  consider  yourselves 
under  arrest,  and  debarred  from  holding  any  com- 
munication with  anyone  in  this  town  until  you 
have  been  deposited  across  the  border." 

"  We  are  extremely  sensible  of  His  Majesty's 
clemency,"  began  Spencer,  with  the  shadow  of  a 
bitter  smile,  when  a  sudden  outburst  of  clamour 
on  the  part  of  Mr.  Smiley  interrupted  him. 

"  And  what  is  to  become  of  me  ? "  cried  that 
gentleman  piteously,  and  proceeded  to  pour  forth 


Young  April  425 

once  more  the  thrilling  story  of  his  woes,  his 
manner  varying  between  the  extremes  of  humility 
and  indignation,  as  the  sense  of  his  injuries  or  of 
his  helplessness  got  the  upper  hand. 

"  I  was  coming  to  you,  sir,"  said  the  Chief  of 
the  Police,  cutting  him  short,  at  length,  at  the 
word  "  robber,"  and  surveying  his  lamentable  ap- 
pearance with  acute  disfavour :  "  His  Majesty  has 
other  occupation  for  his  Courts  of  Justice  than 
the  detention  of  drunken  travellers.  It  is  His 
Majesty's  wish  that,  since  you  claim  authority 
upon  the  Duke  of  Rochester,  you  should  be  given 
a  seat  in  the  same  coach  and  opportunity  of  exer- 
cising your  rights  in  another  kingdom.  Your 
pocket-book  will  be  returned  to  you  presently, 
and  your  luggage  sent  with  the  rest.  A  word 
of  advice  in  conclusion:  try  and  remember,  Mr. 
Pastor,  that  the  rites  of  the  bottle  and  of  the 
Christian  religion  are  not  in  harmony  with  each 
other." 

This  cruel  taunt  to  the  one  man  of  the  whole 
accused  party  that  had  been  absolutely  sober 
over  night  almost  wrung  tears  from  the  parson's 
eyes  —  tears  which  even  the  prospect  of  his  re- 
stored pocket-book  and  approaching  freedom  could 
not  assuage. 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you,"  said  Neuberg,  as  soon  as 


426  Young  April 

the  Chief  of  the  Police  had  retired,  "  that  he  would 
not  dare  to  bring  me  to  trial  ?  And  if  not  me,  of 
course  not  Rochester ;  and  if  neither  of  us,  of 
course  not  you,  the  principal  !  " 

Spencer  quietly  turned  back  to  his  shaving. 

"Eva  was  packing  up  yesterday,"  continued 
Neuberg  pensively.  "  Well,  she  will  not  be  long 
after  us ;  but  the  deuce  is  in  it  that  I  cannot  send 
her  a  line." 

"For  goodness'  sake,  Smiley,"  said  Rochester, 
interrupting  his  quondam  tutor's  vain  laments, 
"  stop  that  horrid  noise,  and  make  yourself  decent, 
since  you  are  to  be  of  our  party.  I  do  not  know 
about  your  being  sober  last  night;  I  do  know  that 
you  drank  most  of  the  wine,  though  !  " 

***** 

It  was  a  silent  party  that  rolled  through  the 
wakening  streets  at  the  round  trot  of  the  official 
horses  —  each  man  occupied  with  his  own 
thoughts,  and  those  of  all  of  them  more  or  less 
tinged  with  melancholy.  Spencer  lay  back  in  the 
recess  of  the  carriage  with  folded  arms  and  closed 
eyes.  Neuberg,  beside  him,  restless,  shifted  his 
position  a  thousand  times,  broke  into  whistling 
staves,  immediately  suppressed,  peered  now  from 
one  window,  now  from  another,  in  the  vain  hope 
of  descrying  some  sign  or  token  of  his  beloved. 


Young  April  427 

Mr.  Smiley,  disposed  to  be  plaintively  conversa- 
tional, had  been  ruthlessly  snubbed  into  silence  by 
his  stern  young  patron,  and  only  gave  vent  to  his 
feelings  by  a  smothered  groan  at  every  jolt,  a 
wincing  sigh  at  every  involuntary  movement. 
Such  soft,  ease-loving  flesh  as  his  could  not  with 
impunity  brave  the  plank  bed. 

But  perhaps  it  was  Rochester's  heart  that  sat 
the  heaviest  in  his  bosom  ;  he  had  neither  Spen- 
cer's final  acceptance  of  the  inevitable,  nor  Neu- 
berg's  hopeful  belief,  nor  the  clergyman's  deter- 
mined egoism  to  sustain  him. 

Leaning  forward  with  hands  resting  on  the 
framework  of  the  open  window  nearest  to  him,  he 
watched  every  familiar  corner  emerge  into  view 
and  disappear,  and,  with  every  turning,  seemed 
to  be  closing  for  ever  a  page  of  his  month  of 
fooling. 

With  what  a  delicious  sense  of  mystery  and  in- 
definite hope  he  had  seen  the  walls  of  the  town 
first  enclose  him  in  the  darkness  !  With  what  a 
sickening  sense  of  flatness,  what  an  all-encompass- 
ing premonition  of  future  dulness,  he  now  saw 
them  recede  in  the  blue  and  gold  sunshine  of  this 
delicate  May-day  ! 

As  they  rolled  out  through  the  toll-gates, 
Rochester  thrust  his  head  out  of  the  window 


428  Yottng  April 

and  gazed  long  and  earnestly  after  the  receding 
vision  of  glistening  spires  and  roofs.  The  hum 
of  the  human  bee-hive,  the  jangle  of  the  church 
bells,  the  cheerful  noises  which  at  all  times  seemed 
so  characteristic  of  the  little  capital,  died  away 
gradually,  and  the  country  silence  was  broken 
only  by  the  roll  and  monotonous  whirl  of  their 
own  wheels,  the  steady  trot  of  their  horses  and  of 
those  of  the  two  mounted  gendarmes  who  accom- 
panied them,  or  by  the  song  of  a  lark  in  a  field 
that  rose  suddenly  as  they  passed  and  mocked 
him  with  a  joyous  ironical  farewell. 

He  turned  his  head  and  looked  forward ;  before 
them,  through  the  mist  of  dust,  lay  the  road, 
cutting  the  bare  hill  like  a  white  tape,  stretching 
upwards  and  onwards,  between  fields  unbroken  by 
tree  or  hedge.  Beyond  lay  the  sky,  faintly  blue. 
It  was  an  image  of  his  coming  life,  thought  the 
boy  —  up  hill,  arid,  uninteresting,  leading  high, 
but  to  no  visible  end. 

There  was  nothing  to  prevent  him  from  making 
his  future  what  he  would ;  but  Rochester  was  one 
of  those  in  whom  ambition,  though  possessing  no 
charm,  though  inspiring  no  passion,  forms  yet  an 
integral  part  of  nature.  The  good  hound  hunts 
according  to  his  race.  The  Duke  of  Rochester 
must  be  rich,  must  be  influential,  powerful,  must 


Young  April  429 

play  his  allotted  part  in  the  world,  however  dis- 
tasteful, however  wearisome  that  part  might  be. 

He  threw  himself  back  against  the  cushions 
with  an  impatient  sigh.  The  book  was  closed; 
never  again,  in  all  probability,  would  he  be  able 
to  live  through  a  single  page  of  such  liberty  and 
irresponsibility  again.  And  he  was  too  young 
yet  to  look  forward  to  the  time  when,  in  a 
solitary  hour,  he  might  unclasp  it,  and  find  a 
fragrant  solace  in  turning  over  some  of  itg 
scented  leaves. 


XLIV 

"  There  was  a  star  danced,  and  under  that  was  I  born. 
Cousins,  God  give  you  joy." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

THE  party  halted  at  a  wayside  inn,  where  their 
appearance  created  much  astonishment  and  in- 
terest. They  were  preparing  to  start  again  when, 
at  the  full  speed  of  a  pair  of  steaming  horses 
driven  by  a  reckless  hand,  a  shabby  travelling- 
coach  laden  with  trunks,  bandboxes  and  parcels 
of  all  sizes  and  shapes,  tied  together  with  string, 
appeared  round  the  corner  and  clattered  in  upon 
the  scene. 

"  Aha,  my  children !  "  sang  a  lady's  melodious 
voice,  "  have  I  got  you  ?  Not  without  trouble,  I 
assure  you !  "  And  Eva's  head,  tied  up  in  a  lace 
shawl,  with  disordered  curls  escaping  on  every 
side,  was  popped  out  of  the  window  of  the  shabby 
coach. 

Neuberg,  who  had  just  settled  his  long  legs  in 
the  prison  carriage,  gave  from  inside  its  recesses 
a  kind  of  war-whoop,  and  bounded  out  again  with 
430 


Young  April  431 

so  much  energy  as  nearly  to  upset  Mr.  Smiley, 
whose  equilibrium  was  already  sufficiently  dis- 
turbed by  his  recognition  of  the  fair  traveller. 

"  Beau-Sourire !  "  cried  Neuberg,  and  leaped 
forward  with  arms  extended.  But,  respectfully 
yet  firmly,  a  police-officer  interposed  the  bulk  of 
his  horse  between  them.  Neuberg  collided,  there- 
fore, with  a  highly  greased  top-boot,  and  recoiled, 
cursing  freely. 

"My  orders,  Herr  Rittmeister,"  said  the  man 
of  discipline  mildly.  Neuberg  turned  purple,  re- 
flected a  moment,  and  became  reasonable. 

"  Till  the  frontier,  my  darling !  "  cried  he. 
"Absurd  regulation — but  still,  we  are  prisoners." 

"  Oh  Lord !  "  said  the  lady,  "  what  fools  there 
are  in  the  world !  Much  use  there  was,  then,  in 
such  hurry :  the  music-books  are  on  the  top  of  my 
last  new  bonnet,  not  to  speak  of  the  way  I  am 
dressed,  for  every  hook  and  eye  is  wrong,  and 
I  am  convinced  that  I  have  put  my  shift  over  my 
stays !  " 

Her  lovely  rosy  face  beamed  at  them  from  out 
of  its  dark  frame ;  the  words  were  tipped  with 
laughter.  Her  presence  had  broken  upon  their 
dull  humours  like  the  sun  through  the  clouds, 
like  the  fresh  morning  air  into  a  close  room. 

Spencer's  face  was  genially  lit  up,  and   the 


432  Young  April 

Duke's  tenderly  softened  from  its  cold  self- 
centred  set.  Even  the  policemen  had  to  turn 
their  heads  respectfully  aside  to  hide  two  broad 
sympathetic  smiles. 

As  for  Neuberg,  his  whole  being  seemed  to 
swim  in  very  joyousness,  as,  dancing,  he  dodged 
the  gendarmes'  horses  to  catch  fresh  sights  of  his 
beloved  and  waft  rapturous  kisses  to  her.  Mr. 
Smiley  alone,  supporting  himself  against  the 
wheel  of  the  coach,  gazed  aghast  upon  the  inde- 
corous presence. 

"  Well,"  said  Eva,  "  we  need  not  have  been  in 
such  a  fuss,  that  is  evident.  Why,  I  fluttered 
that  poor  Prziborzki  to  such  a  degree  that  he  did 
not  know  whether  he  was  standing  on  his  head  or 
his  heels  !  Is  it  not  so,  Prziborzki  ?  " 

She  jerked  her  thumb  cheerfully  backwards  in 
the  direction  of  the  rumble,  in  which  the  friends 
now  became  aware  of  the  accompanist's  presence. 
Hemmed  in  by  parcels  and  carrying  a  bird-cage 
on  his  knee,  he  sat,  blushing  violently  to  find 
himself  suddenly  the  cynosure  of  so  many 
eyes. 

"Na,  yes,"  went  on  the  Prima  Donna  in 
answer  to  the  different  shades  of  astonishment 
perceptible  on  the  surrounding  faces,  "I  am 
carrying  him  off  with  me.  It  is  the  pearl  of 


Young  April  433 

accompanists,  and  I  could  not  live  without  him 
any  more  than  he  without  me  —  could  you,  my 
Prziborzki?  And  so  I  am  to  drive  alone,  am  I? 
May  I  not  even  have  the  little  Duke  ?  Oh,  come, 
Mr.  Policeman,  that  poor  child  cannot  have  done 
anything  so  very  wrong." 

Her  merry  eye  roved  over  the  party  until  it 
rested  on  the  black  figure  of  Mr.  Smiley  and  sud- 
denly became  lit  with  fresh  mischief. 

"  Well,  I  am  sure,  anyhow,"  she  said,  "  that 
this  Herr  Pastor  is  not  one  of  the  delinquents;  if 
ever  innocence  and  virtue  sat  enthroned,  it  is 
upon  that  holy  countenance.  May  I  not  have  the 
company  of  the  reverend  gentleman  ?  It  will  do 
me  good,  I  feel  it  will." 

"  God  forbid ! "  cried  Smiley  in  loud  tones  of 
horror,  and  threw  out  both  his  hands  with  a  gest- 
ure of  reprobation. 

There  was  a  burst  of  laughter,  led  by  Eva's 
treble.  The  shoulders  of  the  gendarmes  fairly 
shook.  The  only  persons  who  preserved  their 
gravity  were  Neuberg  and  the  unfortunate  clergy- 
man himself,  who  began  to  regret  his  rashness 
upon  meeting  the  look  which  the  officer  now  fixed 
upon  him  —  a  look  so  menacing,  not  to  say  so 
ferocious,  that,  muttering  something  about  his 
health,  the  bad  night,  and  the  sun,  Mr.  Smiley 

2F 


434  Young  April 

fairly  turned  tail  and  sought  safety  in  the  farthest 
corner  of  the  carriage. 

This  was  the  signal  for  a  general  move. 

Both  coaches  started  upon  the  road  again ;  the 
three  friends  took  it  in  turn  to  hang  their  heads 
out  of  the  window  and  exchange  distant  remarks 
or  signals  with  Eva,  which  process  much  relieved 
the  tediousness  of  the  journey. 


XLV 

u  The  setting  sun  and  music  at  the  close 
As  the  last  taste  of  sweets  is  sweetest  last." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

THE  high  tide  of  spring  had  flooded  the  well- 
remembered  little  border  town,  the  scene  of 
Rochester's  first  duelling  experience,  and  it  had 
changed  the  irregular  hamlet  into  a  very  bower. 
Not  a  burgher's  house  or  artizan's  cottage  but  had 
its  plume  of  lilac-bush,  its  pink-foamed  apple-tree, 
its  bed  of  gorgeous  tulip  or  wreath  of  bursting 
vine;  not  to  speak,  indeed,  of  the  chestnuts  in 
the  fountain-square,  the  acacias  in  the  rope- 
makers'  alley,  and  the  ethereal  stars  of  the  white- 
and-mauve  glycine  creeping  and  enfolding  the 
old  walls  of  the  inn  garden. 

The  travellers  at  the  Toll  House  Inn  had  been 
received  with  the  confidential  welcome  due  to  the 
well -remembered  guest,  the  obsequious  flutter  due 
to  a  party  of  such  consequence. 

They  had  taken  an  almost  affectionate  leave  of 
their  police  escort  in  the  inn  courtyard.  Free 
435 


436  Young  April 

men  GLOW  more,  they  stepped  into  the  orchard 
green.  For  out  in  the  flower-scented  garden 
they  elected  this  day  to  have  their  evening  meal 
by  the  light  of  the  setting  sun  —  their  last  meal 
together !  It  had  been  mutually  agreed  that 
partings  are  best  brief  ;  therefore  that  Rochester 
should  set  out  by  post  upon  his  further  journey 
this  very  evening,  that  Spencer  should  wait  for 
the  mail-coach,  while  his  friends  took  the  diver- 
gent southward  route. 

At  Eva's  suggestion,  Dr.  Theophilus  Lehmann, 
pink  of  seconds  and  pearl  of  country  surgeons, 
had  been  sent  a  warm  invitation  to  join  them  ; 
and  his  simple  presence,  his  undisguised  delight 
at  finding  himself  once  more  (against  all  hope)  in 
such  delightful  company,  greatly  contributed  to 
the  outward  cheerfulness  of  the  hour. 

Mr.  Smiley,  at  a  broad  hint  from  his  new 
patron,  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  an  al 
fresco  repast  would  be  prejudicial  to  his  rheu- 
matic tendency,  and  had  decided  to  take  his  refec- 
tion within  doors.  Therefore  all  was  harmony. 

And  so  the  hour  passed,  with  jest  and  laughter 
and  toast  and  song  —  hour  of  sadness  and  merri- 
ment so  subtly  blended  that  it  was  destined  to 
remain  perhaps  the  most  tender  memory  of 
Rochester's  life. 


Young  April  437 

The  sands  of  the  glass  now  began  to  ru»  low, 
and  upon  the  sloping  gardens  the  shadow*  tr» 
grow  longer  and  colder. 

Eva  sprang  up. 

"  Now,"  cried  she,  "  one  more  toast,  the  finaL 
Let  the  wine  go  round  again :  you  have  drunk  to 
our  liberty,  Neuberg's  and  mine,  and  let  come 
what  may  it  is  sweet;  you  have  drunk  to  that 
perfect  happiness  which  every  one  of  us  expects 
and  which  none  of  us  will  get,  that  is  the  inevi- 
table ;  you  have  drunk  to  the  Duke  and  the 
Doctor,  to  the  Philosopher  and  the  Prziborzki,  to 
the  Soldier  and  the  Singer :  now  let  us  drink  to 
our  future  meeting! " 

The  glasses  were  filled  with  acclamation,  clinked 
with  ceremony,  emptied  almost  with  solemnity. 
As  each  put  down  the  empty  bumper,  gravity  had 
taken  the  place  of  smiles.  A  toast  to  a  happy 
meeting  in  the  vague  future  can  but  emphasize 
the  reality  of  the  immediate  parting.  There  was 
an  impressive  silence.  Two  tears  gathered  in 
Eva's  eyes  and  rolled  unrestrained  down  her 
cheeks.  Neuberg  put  out  his  hands  to  her : 
she  looked  at  the  brooding  face  of  Spencer 
with  a  steady,  sad  intentness,  then  heaved  a 
long  sigh  and  slowly  put  her  hand  into  that  of 
her  faithful  lover.  Spencer's  face  suddenly 


438  Young  April 

beamed ;  he  turned  to  them  with  an  approving 
smile. 

"  At  least,"  he  said,  "  for  you  there  lies  happi- 
ness for  the  taking." 

But  Rochester  felt  a  sense  of  increasing  loneli- 
ness creep  upon  him. 

At  this  moment  a  servant,  who  had  approached 
him  unperceived,  touched  Spencer  on  the  shoulder. 

"  There  is  a  lady  just  ridden  into  the  courtyard, 
sir,  who  desires  to  see  you." 

Spencer  had  started  to  his  feet ;  his  face  had 
grown  pale. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  he  asked. 

Even  as  he  spoke  the  figure  of  the  Countess  de 
Lucena  appeared  at  the  head  of  the  little  flight  of 
steps  leading  into  the  garden.  Framed  by  the 
doorway  under  the  hanging  wreaths  of  glycine, 
she  stood  looking  down  upon  them,  her  graceful 
slenderness  accentuated  by  the  long  straight  folds 
of  her  riding-habit.  Her  face,  under  the  shadow 
of  the  great-brimmed  hat,  shone  forth  with  a  sort 
of  pale  luminosity. 

In  amazement  too  deep  for  words  the  friends 
saw  how  Spencer  walked  steadily  up  to  his  unex- 
pected visitor ;  how  the  two,  with  quiet  greeting, 
interchanged  a  few  words  j  and  then  how  he  gave 
her  his  hand,  led  her  down  the  steps  ;  how  together 


Young  April  439 

they  strolled  past  the  table,  across  the  green  slope, 
towards  the  lower  garden  path. 

Neither  Spencer  nor  the  Countess  vouchsafed  a 
glance  upon  the  company  ;  she  had  thrown  the 
long  folds  of  her  habit  over  her  arm  and  showed 
the  springing  tread  of  each  exquisite  foot  in  its 
high  riding-boot  as  she  stepped.  She  had  broken 
a  little  branch  of  glycine  and  held  it  to  her  cheek 
as  she  looked  up  at  her  companion. 

The  men  rose  as  she  went  by;  the  Duke's  heart 
was  beating  to  suffocation ;  but  Eva,  drawing 
closer  to  the  table,  rested  her  elbows  upon  it  and 
her  face  upon  her  hands,  and  followed  the  two 
with  burning  eyes. 

The  sun  flamed  crimson  and  saffron  on  the  hori- 
zon and  flooded  the  world  with  the  glory  of  its 
parting  look.  There  was  a  great  silence  in  the 
air,  when  suddenly  a  thrush  on  some  topmost 
branch  of  the  tree  raised  the  liquid  ecstasy  of  its 
evening  song. 

Beneath,  on  that  level  path,  Rochester  watched 
the  two  figures  pace  solemnly  to  and  fro,  engaged, 
it  seemed,  in  earnest  communion.  With  such 
courtliness  did  Spencer  move,  with  such  grace  the 
woman  beside  him,  that  it  imparted,  he  thought, 
to  the  humble  inn  garden  something  of  the  atmos- 
phere of  a  princely  pleasance. 


44°  Young  April 

And  still  the  bird  sang  on,  expressing  to  the 
lad's  fancy  all  that  lay  unf orinulated  upon  his  own 
heavy  heart :  the  ineffable  beauty  of  what  might 
have  been,  the  eternal  sadness  of  what  was. 

Spencer  seemed  to  speak  but  little  ;  the  Count- 
ess much,  emphasizing  her  words  with  a  few 
dainty  gestures  of  the  hand  that  held  the  mauve 
blossom.  Once  or  twice  she  laid  it  upon  his  arm. 
Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  it  was  evident  that  her 
words  ran  quicker  and  more  eagerly:  she  broke 
apart  from  her  companion  and  stood  facing  him. 

Rochester  saw  her  drop  her  flower,  half  stretch 
both  her  arms  to  the  man,  leaning  a  little  forward 
in  an  exquisite  airy  poise,  the  attitude  of  the  god- 
dess ready  to  crown  the  mortal.  Just  so  must 
Diana  have  alighted  before  Endymion. 

Watching  with  a  poignancy  of  emotion  which 
was  well-nigh  anguish,  Rochester  beheld  Spencer 
step  back  a  pace  and  fold  his  arms  upon  his  breast ; 
and  at  the  same  moment  the  Countess  dropped 
hers  by  her  side,  as  a  bird  might  close  her  wings. 
She  had  thrown  back  her  little  head;  in  silence 
they  were  looking  straight  into  each  other's  eyes. 
And  the  watcher  knew  that  two  strong  human 
souls  had  met  in  the  mortal  conflict  of  Pride  and 
Desire ;  that  the  man  suffered  more  from  his 
victory  than  she  from  her  defeat. 


Young  April  441 

It  was  a  brief  moment,  charged  with  the  emo- 
tions of  a  lifetime.  Then,  with  a  quiet  movement, 
the  Countess  gathered  her  skirts  together  again. 
Spencer  stepped  forward,  slightly  bowing,  and 
offered  his  arm,  which  delicately  she  took — grande 
dame  in  every  deliberate  gesture.  In  silence  they 
paced  the  garden  path  again  once  or  twice,  and 
then  they  began  to  mount  the  slope  that  led 
towards  the  house. 

Involuntarily  Rochester  turned  to  draw  nearer 
to  her  as  she  approached.  The  sun  had  now  sunk, 
and  hyacinthine  shadows  had  taken  the  place  of 
the  golden  glamour;  filmy  vapours  were  rising 
from  the  cooling  earth ;  every  tree  and  flower  was 
wrapped  in  the  mystery  of  the  hour ;  the  thrush's 
brilliant  notes  had  sunk  to  those  plaintive  under- 
tones that  sound  like  the  very  voice  of  twilight ; 
and  like  the  very  spirit  of  evening  herself,  the 
Countess  came  up  upon  them  silently  from  among 
the  blossoms,  her  eyes  shining  as  the  first  stars,  a 
misty  plume  floating  about  her  brow.  This  time 
she  looked  deliberately  at  each  one  as  she  passed, 
but  without  pausing,  and  barely  moving  her 
head  in  response  to  Neuberg's  stiff  salute  and  to 
Rochester's  almost  unconscious  inclination.  But 
as  her  glance  fell  upon  the  men's  faces,  her  lip 
curled  in  an  enigmatic  smile  :  —  "  Oh,  virtuous 


442  Young  April 

young  men,"  it  seemed  to  say,  "  did  I  but  choose 
to  lift  a  finger  .  .  .  !  " 

At  the  foot  of  the  steps  she  disengaged  her 
hand  from  Spencer's  arm  and,  mounting  first, 
passed  out  of  sight.  He  followed  her. 

In  the  gathering  gloom,  of  the  little  party  under 
the  lime-trees  the  two  who  knew  so  much  already 
(and  guessed  so  much  more)  looked  at  each  other 
without  a  word.  And  eaclj.  face  was  white  in  the 
other's  eyes. 

"  Oh,"  cried  Eva,  in  a  voice  of  passion,  "  God 
save  us  !  That  woman  again  !  Why,  the  whole 
town  was  ringing  with  tales  of  her  this  morning  ! 
Spencer's  duel  and  Neuberg's  stormings  have 
opened  every  eye.  They  say  she  is  dismissed  by 
the  Queen,  who  now  is  ill  —  heart-broken.  My 
God  !  can  such  terrible  women  be  ? " 

With  a  sudden  impulse  Neuberg  laid  his  hand 
on  Eva's  lips,  and  then,  stooping,  kissed  her. 

But  Rochester,  after  a  furtive  glance  around 
him,  slipped  unobserved  down  into  the  dusky 
recesses  of  the  garden,  sought  on  the  ground  for 
a  little  branch  of  glycine,  which  first  he  pressed 
to  his  lips  and  then  thrust  into  his  bosom. 
Spencer's  words  of  a  little  while  ago  recurred 
and  rang  in  his  heart  like  the  toll  of  a  funeral 
bell:  "Happiness  for  the  taking  .  .  .  happiness  for 


Young  April  443 

the  taking !  "    Oh,  God  !  what  happiness  it  might 

have  been  that  had  been  cast  away  upon  this  spot  I 

***** 

With  the  exactness  of  the  most  formal  cavalier, 
Spencer  had  seated  the  lady  on  her  horse.  The 
light  pressure  of  her  foot  still  tingled  on  his  palm  ; 
while  she  gathered  her  reins,  he  absently  caressed 
the  neck  of  the  pretty  creature  that  he  had  res- 
cued from  Sachs's  torture,  that  had  known  him 
as  master  for  some  days,  that  still  seemed  to 
remember  his  touch  lovingly. 

Donna  Julia  dropped  a  glance  at  the  downcast 
face. 

"  And  so,"  she  said,  her  lips  formulating  with 
exquisite  caress  the  language  in  which  they  had 
first  spoken  of  love  together  —  "and  so  it  is 
ended?  Farewell,  then;  Heaven  speed  you, 
Spencer,  wherever  you  may  be  !  To-morrow  I 
go  back  to  my  Tuscany.  I  will  always  keep 
Zuleika  —  in  remembrance.  You  will  need  no 
remembrance  ;  you  will  never  forget ! ' 

He  looked  up  and  their  eyes  met  for  the  last 
time,  but  he  answered  nothing.  He  knew  that 
she  spoke  the  truth  :  she  was  not  one  of  those  that 
are  forgotten.  He  also  knew  that,  most  carefully 
packed  of  all  his  precious  things,  hidden  away  in 
that  pile  of  luggage  yonder,  was  a  little  yellow  cup. 


4/{4  Young  April 

A  shade  of  pain  quivered  on  her  face ;  she  took 
up  her  reins,  signed  with  her  whip  to  the  Jager, 
who  sat  impassive  on  his  horse  a  few  yards  away ; 
and  under  a  touch  the  high-blooded  mare  carried 
her  swaying  out  of  the  courtyard. 

Bareheaded,  Spencer  watched  the  undulation  of 
the  light  figure  and  listened  to  the  cadence  of  the 
brisk  trot  till  both  sight  and  sound  were  lost  in 
the  distance.  Then  he  turned  to  go  into  the 
house.  Melancholy,  as  all  encompassing  as  the 
gathering  night,  had  fallen  upon  him. 

The  yard  was  full  of  bustle  for  the  speeding 
of  the  parting  guests. 

***** 

In  a  very  little  while  the  Duke's  chaise,  loaded 
with  luggage,  stood  awaiting  him  before  the  door. 
The  diligence  in  which  Spencer  had  booked  a  seat 
was  already  changing  horses. 

"  Good-bye,  Eva,"  said  Rochester,  taking  her 
hand.  He  wanted  to  add  more,  to  thank  her,  to 
assure  her  of  his  eternal  affection,  but  he  could 
not  bring  out  another  word.  He  stooped  to  kiss 
the  kind  hand  that  had  nursed  him  so  well ;  but 
she  caught  the  boy  round  the  neck  with  both 
her  warm  arms,  kissed  him  twice,  and  left  her 
tears  upon  his  cheeks. 

Mr.  Smiley  discreetly  scanned  the  stars  of 
heaven,  and  coughed. 


Young  April  445 

Then  Neuberg  clapped  his  friend  on  the  shoul- 
der, and  wrung  him  by  the  hand. 

"  You  will  remember  your  promised  visit  ?  "  said 
the  little  Duke.  "  And  Eva  ?  and  you,  Mr.  Spen- 
cer ?  and  you  too,  Herr  Doctor  ?  " 

Oh  yes,  said  they,  they  would  all  remember  ; 
they  would  all  be  sure  to  come  to  him  some  day 
—  some  day ! 

He  got  into  his  chaise ;  they  gathered  on  the 
steps.  English  John  mounted  the  rumble  ;  the 
postilions  cracked  their  whips. 

"Think  of  me  sometimes,"  said  the  Duke  — 
"sometimes,  in  the  month  of  April." 

With  creak  and  sigh  the  chaise  got  under  way; 
Rochester  strained  his  head  for  a  last  look.  Eva 
and  Neuberg  stood  together,  hand  in  hand,  and 
Eva  now  waved  her  handkerchief,  now  clapped  it 
to  her  eyes.  Neuberg's  face  was  red  with  shout- 
ing laboriously  jocose  valedictory  remarks.  Spen- 
cer, standing  a  little  apart,  sent  after  the  traveller 
a  smile  and  gesture  that  were  sadder  than  the 
singer's  tears.  The  Doctor's  yellow  bandanna 
fluttered  like  a  giant  butterfly. 

So  they  parted.  Rochester  could  see  no  more 
for  the  mist  that  rose  before  his  eyes.  He  had 
never  known  till  now  how  much  he  had  learnt  to 
love  them  all. 


AN  EPILOGUE 

"  Que  vous  ai-je  done  fait,  O  mes  jeunes  anne'es  t 
Pour  m'avoir  f  uit  si  vite  et  vous  etre  e"loigne"es, 

Me  croyant  satisf ait  ? 

He"las !  pour  revenir  m'apparaitre  si  belles, 
Quand  vous  ne  pouvez  plus  me  prendre  sur  vos  ailes. 
Que  vous  ai-je  done  fait  ?  " 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

"  Et  les  manteaux  de  due  trainent  dans  leur  f ourrures 
Pendant  que  des  grandeurs  on  monte  les  degres 
Un  bruit  d'illusions  seches  et  de  regrets  ..." 

ROSTAND. 

IT  was  autumn  upon  the  land,  and  night  had 
fallen.  A  high  triumphant  wind  rode  in  inter- 
mittent fury  across  the  Duke  of  Rochester's  broad 
acres,  here  wresting  the  leaves  from  the  famous 
oak-trees,  there  sweeping  over  miles  of  yellowing 
bracken  from  secret  coverts  where  the  deer  cow- 
ered close,  to  dash  itself  against  walls  that  had 
seen  the  revels  of  the  second  Charles,  and  housed 
the  sober  state  of  the  third  George. 

Within  the  great  house  all  was  very  silent. 
By  the  rays  of  a  single  lamp  that  threw  more 
shadows  than  light,  beside  a  dying  wood  fire,  His 
446 


Young  April  447 

Grace  sat  in  the  library  and,  listening  to  the 
autumn  storm,  found  an  echo  of  its  melancholy  in 
his  own  thoughts. 

There  are  moments  in  most  men's  lives  when 
they  are  irresistibly  impelled  to  pause  and  look 
back  upon  some  distant  scene  of  the  road  of  life 
already  traversed.  In  very  active  existences 
these  moments  of  vain  hearkening  to  the  music  of 
the  past  may  be  rare,  but  they  are  all  the  more 
poignant.  It  was  not  often  that  the  Duke  of 
Rochester,  the  astute  statesman  of  world-wide 
renown,  the  great  territorial  ruler,  the  princely 
host,  indulged  in  the  secret  luxury  of  such  a  halt 
on  the  way  of  his  busy  life.  But  to-night,  with 
the  voice  of  the  year's  autumn  complaining  with- 
out, with  the  sense  within  him  that  he  himself 
stood  on  the  threshold  of  life's  autumn,  his  soul 
had  gone  back  with  a  great  melancholy  to  the 
memory  of  one  glamorous  April,  which  was  all 
that  it  had  really  known  of  spring. 

The  echoing  stillness  of  a  vast  and  splendid 
solitude,  a  fading  year,  a  dying  fire  —  it  seemed 
all  an  emblem  of  his  life  !  He  was  childless,  and 
with  him  the  great  name  became  extinct.  He 
was  well-nigh  through  his  forty-first  year,  and  for 
more  than  two  decades  his  spirit  had  walked  alone : 
for  the  high-born  woman  who  bore  his  name  and 


448  Young  April 

went  through  the  world  beside  him,  the  friends 
that  gathered  round  him,  consorted  with  the  Duke 
—  never  with  the  man. 

To-night  it  was  the,  man  who  sat  by  the  embers 
and  rested  upon  a  long  thin  hand  a  head  whereon 
time  had  prematurely  bleached  the  ruddy  gold. 
Distant  memories  were  crowding  thick  upon  him  ; 
the  shadows  were  peopled  by  young,  friendly 
forms ;  bright  faces  smiled  upon  him  familiarly; 
voices,  the  accents  of  which  woke  fantastic  echoes 
in  his  heart,  rang  in  his  ears  once  more  —  Neuberg, 
swayed  between  anger  and  joyousness  ;  Spencer, 
dignified  and  guileless,  eloquent  and  paradoxical, 
absurd  and  great-hearted ;  Eva  —  Beau-Sourire  I 
laughing,  loving,  singing ;  and,  always  wrapt 
in  mystery,  with  eyes  unfathomable  and  smile 
sweet  with  unutterable  promise,  the  Countess  de 
Lucena,  the  goddess  of  his  young  dreams,  she  who 
had  kissed  his  lips  that  April  night  and  revealed 
to  him  for  one  brief  flash  the  paradise  of  love 
that  he  was  never  to  reach  again  !  They  were  all 
with  him  again. 

Life,  that  had  given  the  Duke  so  many  prizes, 
had  given  the  man  one  moon  of  joy;  for  one 
April  span  she  had  led  him  by  the  hand,  and 
taught  him  every  sweet  note  in  her  gamut  from 
laughter  to  tears,  from  longing  to  ecstasy.  And, 


Young  April  449 

after  that,  she  had  set  him  in  high  places, 
hemmed  him  in  with  wealth  and  duties,  conven- 
tions and  grandeurs,  and  left  him  to  be  content 

if  he  could. 

Where  were  they  now  in  the  flesh— these  joy- 
ous companions,  the  Singer,  the  Philosopher,  and 
the  Soldier  !  and  where  was  she,  the  Pagan,  the 
priestess  of  Aphrodite  !  who  might  have  made 
such  a  Duchess  ?  .  .  . 

In  his  mind's  eye  he  always  beheld  Eva  and 
Neuberg  as  he  had  last  seen  them  —  hand  in  hand. 
Had  they  gone  thus  through  the  journey  of  these 
twenty  years?  And  Spencer,  the  roving  spirit, 
had  he  kept  green  that  memory  (as  brief  and 
poignant  as  his  own)  of  earthly  delight  and  disil- 
lusion ?  Had  he  cherished  his  treasured  indepen- 
dence ?  or  had  he  mated  with  some  excellent 
middle-class  woman,  who  respected  his  papers, 
endured  with  pity  his  great  theories,  and  never 
dreamed  but  that  all  his  musings  were  devoted  to 
harmless  philosophical  conundrums  ? 

He  would  never  know:  and  now  he  no  longer 
desired  to  know. 

In  the  first  exuberance  of  his  affectionate  grief 
at  parting  from  them,  he  had  written  to  Neuberg 
and  Eva  a  loving  letter,  and  another  to  Spencer, 
in  Paris.  But  to  the  first  had  come  no  answer. 

2G 


45O  Young  April 

Whether  the  missive  had  miscarried,  or  whether, 
like  himself,  the  Prima  Donna  and  the  Soldier  had 
been  caught  up  by  the  current  of  a  new  absorbing 
existence  that  whirled  them  to  new  scenes  and 
interests  and  drowned  all  distant  sounds,  he  would 
never  know. 

Spencer  had  answered  —  a  kindly- worded,  in- 
definite note,  promising  that  when  he  came  to 
England  he  would  certainly  accept  the  Duke's 
hospitality  —  and  that  was  the  last  heard  of  him. 

In  a  little  while,  under  the  influence  of  his  new 
atmosphere,  the  Duke  of  Rochester  had  come  to 
think  of  those  gushing  letters  of  his  with  a  blush, 
and  by-and-by  had  begun  to  congratulate  himself 
on  the  fact  that  the  visits  they  had  so  warmly 
urged  seemed  little  like  to  take  place.  Among 
others,  how  would  Her  Grace  have  viewed  those 
unconventional,  irrepressible  guests  ! 

But  as  time  flowed  by  his  feelings  towards  the 
sharers  of  his  one  month's  fooling  had  entered 
upon  a  different  phase.  Amidst  the  barren  pleas- 
ures, the  hard  work,  the  purely  intellectual  emo- 
tions of  his  existence,  the  thought  of  them  became 
a  memory  so  tender  as  to  be  almost  sacred ;  and 
he  would  not  have  changed  it  for  any  fresh  im- 
pression which  must  needs  have  brushed  away  its 
exquisite  April  bloom.  To  him  they  should  re- 


Young  April  451 

main  ever  young,  ever  smiling  and  storming,  ever 
gathered  round  that  real,  ardent,  impetuous  self 
of  his,  which  none  but  they  had  known. 

And  Julia  de  Lucena!  How  could  he  have 
borne  to  hear  of  her  growing  old,  haggard,  hard  ?  — 
hear  to  what  chasm,  in  the  course  of  cruel  years, 
her  delicate  paganism  had  finally  brought  her? 
To  him  she  should  ever  be  the  radiant  Diana  — 
the  goddess  whom  not  the  age  nor  the  disillusion 
of  mere  humanity  could  touch,  the  Treasure  of 
Beauty  in  his  heart,  the  embodiment  of  those 
dreams  from  which  real  life  is  the  hard  awaken- 
ing !  In  spite  of  the  anguish  that  surrounded 
her  image  before  his  soul,  like  the  smoking  sacri- 
fice before  the  altar,  to  him  she  should  always 
remain  the  one  passion  he  had  known.  Could 
Endymion  have  had  aught  left  to  give  of  desire 
to  some  mountain  maid  after  lying  in  Diana's 
arms  ? 

He  rose  and  went  to  his  desk,  and  drew  from 
the  secret  drawer  a  discoloured  morocco  pocket- 
book,  which  he  opened  with  tender  touch.  In 
this  were  only  four  little  twisted  notes,  written 
in  finest  Italian  hand,  but  of  a  few  lines  each. 

"  Gome  and  see  me,  beau  Postilion  d' Amour" 
ran  a  line  of  faded  violet  ink.  And  the  Duke 
smiled  that  smile  that  is  sadder  than  tears  as  his 


452  Young  April 

eye  caught  the  phrase.  Besides  these  there  was 
a  dried  flower,  that  crumbled  into  powder  as  he 
laid  his  fingers  upon  it.  And  that  was  all. 

Life  had  given  the  man  no  more  than  this,  — 
an  April  month,  a  memory  of  folly  and  frolic, 
of  joy  and  of  the  bitterness  which  paid  for  it,  a 
kiss  from  an  idealized  woman  under  a  starlit  sky, 
—  and  these  relics. 


THE  END 


THE  CELEBRITY. 

AN  EPISODE. 

By  WINSTON  CHURCHILL. 

Crown  Svo.  Cloth.  $1.50. 

"  One  of  the  best  stories  that  has  come  from  the  presses  in  the  last  six 
months.  The  plot  is  novel,  the  central  idea  clever,  and  the  incidents  are 
worked  out  with  a  degree  of  skill  and  good  taste  that  are  eminently  satisfac- 
tory. ...  Its  quiet  humor  is  one  of  its  best  qualities."  —  Tht  Brooklyn 
Eagle. 

"  No  such  piece  of  inimitable  comedy,  in  a  literary  way,  has  appeared  for 
years.  .  .  .  It  is  the  purest,  keenest  fun." — The  Inter-Ocean,  Chicago. 

"  This  is  a  delightfully  entertaining  novel,  and  it  is  seldom  that  one  of 
such  masterly  qualities,  by  a  new  author,  wins  its  way  to  public  favor  as  this 
is  sure  to  do  ...  Everybody  will  find  himself  amply  rewarded  in  seeking 
time  to  read  this  story."  —  Boston  Courier. 

"  It  is  an  extremely  clever  piece  of  work,  that  is  likely  to  be  as  popular  as 
it  deserves."  —  Boston  Transcript. 


THE  PRIDE  OF  JENNICO. 

BEING  A  MEMOIR  OF  CAPTAIN  BASIL  JENNICQ. 

By  AGNES  and  EGERTON  CASTLE. 

i6mo.    Cloth.    $1.50. 

"  This  lively  story  has  a  half-historic  flavor  which  adds  to  Its  interest ..  . 
told  with  an  intensity  of  style  which  almost  takes  away  the  breath  of  the 
reader." —  Transcript,  Boston. 

"  An  artistic  production  and  original." —  The  Tribune,  New  York. 

"  The  romance  of  history  and  the  history  oi  a  romance  are  blended  in  thu 
story."  _  The  Washington  Post. 

"  The  story  is  largely  historical,  both  German  and  English  elements  en- 
tering into  it.  The  scene  changes  from  the  old  castle  of  Tollendahl  to  an 
English  country  house  and  London  club,  always  maintaining  its  old-world 
flavor 

"T 
elty  o 

The  New  York  Tribune. 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY, 

66  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK. 


CORLEONE. 


By  P.  MARION  CRAWFORD, 

Author  of  "Saracinesca,"  "Katharine  Lauderdale"  "Tafnisara," 
etc.,  etc. 

a  vols.    i6mo.    Cloth.    $2.00. 

"  The  mere  story  is  of  absorbing  interest,  and  possesses  the  transcendent 
merit  that  even  a  blase  and  veteran  reviewer  is  altogether  unable  to  foresee 
the  conclusion." 

"  If  Mr.  Crawford's  presentment  of  the  island,  with  its  mixed  Saracen  and 
Greek  ancestry,  be  as  veracious  as  it  appears,  if  the  Mafia  be  not  a  band 
.  .  .  but  a  sentiment,  a  feeling,  a  sort  of  wild  love  of  country,  then  he  has 
rendered  an  important  service  to  social  science  in  addition  to  creating  one  of 
the  strongest  and  most  delightful  novels  of  our  century."  — The  Bookman. 

"  It  is  by  far  the  most  stirring  and  dramatic  of  all  the  author's  Italian 
stories.  .  .  .  The  plot  is  a  masterly  one,  bringing  at  almost  every  page  a 
fresh  surprise,  keeping  the  reader  in  suspense  to  the  very  end."  —  The  New 
York  Times. 


THE  CHOIR   INVISIBLE. 

By  JAMES  LANE  ALLEN, 

"  Author  of '"A  Summer  in  Arcady"  "A  Kentucky  Cardinal"  etc. 
izmo.    Cloth.    $1.50. 

"  What  impresses  one  most  in  this  exquisite  romance  of  Kentucky's  green 
wilderness  is  the  author's  marvellous  power  of  drawing  word  pictures  that 
stand  before  the  mind's  eye  in  all  the  vividness  of  actuality.  Mr.  Allen's  de- 
scriptions of  nature  are  genuine  poetry  of  form  and  color." —  The  Tribune, 
New  York. 

"  The  impressions  left  by  the  book  are  lasting  ones  in  every  sense  of  the 
word,  and  they  are  helpful  as  well.  Strong,  clear-cut,  positive  in  its  treat- 
ment, the  story  will  become  a  power  in  its  way,  and  the  novelist-historian  of 
Kentucky,  its  cleverest  author,  will  achieve  a  triumph  second  to  no  literary 
man's  in  the  country." —  Commercial  Tribune,  Cincinnati. 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY, 

66  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK. 


University  of  Caifomia 
SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
Los  Anaahi,  CA  90024-1388 

aterial  to  the  library 

•  «H 


NON-RENEWABLE 

'9SJ 
DUE  2  WKprMli  RECEIVED 


"""" 1  •••mi 


A    000039903    o 


